Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon
by vanityfair
Summary: Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor set out to find adventure. But during their quest to rid the countryside of an evil dragon, they meet with a woman who might just steal their hearts instead.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written for the hpsmutfree ficathon on livejournal. Thanks to the great smutfree mods gmweasley and Mrs. Muggle. This does mean that there won't be any smut. There is, however, plenty of romance.

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Prologue**

Over a thousand years ago the four greatest witches and wizards of the age came together to form Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – a place they envisioned where children for generations to come could come and learn the finer points of the magical arts. But Salazar Slytherin soon left, unable to agree on the policy of accepting Muggleborns at the prestigious school.

Most today believe his hatred and prejudices against Muggles, which were indeed great, prompted this decision, but the truth is there was a much deeper reason.

Love.

Yes, dear friend, you've read that correctly. But perhaps we should start at the beginning.

**Chapter One**

A knock at the door and a visit amongst friends is where our tale begins in a shabby old shack in the midst of the fen…

"Who is it?" Salazar Slytherin stood at his workbench hunched over a smoking cauldron. Piles of parchments, quills, and pots of inks lay strewn about, and he alternated between cutting and adding ingredients to his brew to reading and consulting his copious notes.

The door swung open, and the sudden sunlight made him squint. A dark shadow of a man stood in the doorway.

"Godric Gryffindor, come with a quest for you," he said grandly with sweeping arms and a booming voice.

Salazar just looked at him irritated and went back to his reading. "Oh, it's you. You don't happen to read Hebrew, do you?" He couldn't be sure if that was one pim or two he was supposed to add.

"That's the way you greet your oldest and bestest of friends?" Godric asked, feigning hurt.

Salazar scowled. "When he's interrupting important work, then yes." It had to be exactly the right amount. Too little would make it too acidic and too much and it could explode.

"But I have more important work. I want you to come dragon hunting with me." It sounded like another one of his friend's hare brained schemes meant to make them a fortune, but more often had them scrambling to stay alive and on the run from mobs of angry Muggles. Not that escaping Muggles was hard, but Manticores were an altogether different matter.

"What's in it for me?"

"Fame, fortune, and eternal glory," he listed.

"Don't forget singed eyebrows and a brush with death," Salazar added. He pushed past Godric to get to the shelves that lined the walls, searching through the many vials and containers there until he found what he was looking for. He held it up to the light to make sure it was still fresh and then took it back over to his workbench, measuring it out carefully.

"But think of the fun we'll have."

"I'm busy," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Still working on the Philosopher's Stone?"

"I'm so close. I have it this time. You just wait," he persisted. He talked into his cauldron, keeping his focus on the bubbling brew. A pinch more of the rosewood should do it. He rubbed it between his fingers, felt each tiny grain, and then dropped it in. Holding his breath, he waited.

"There are easier ways to get gold, Salazar," Godric argued. He pulled out his sword and swung it round a few times, slaying imaginary dragons, no doubt.

"Careful!" Salazar could just imagine him hitting one of the shelves and knocking every precious ingredient to the floor. Although if he got this potion right, he would have enough gold to replace them all and then some.

"Maybe you should stir it," his friend offered, using the weapon as a pointer.

"Put that thing away now," he demanded even as he reached for a spoon. It hadn't reacted yet. He expected something would have happened by now.

BOOM!

Green goo splattered the walls. Shards of metal tore through the air. The thatched roof burst into flames and the north wall crumbled under the force of the impact. The two men fell to the floor. Salazar cowered under the work bench with only his arms to protect his head. He wanted to cry. Months and months of work and it was gone in an instant. Picking up a chunk of what used to be his cauldron, he threw it in Godric's direction. If only he hadn't been here to distract him, he might have gotten it right this time.

"Sorry," he heard Gryffindor mumble as he dug himself out from under a heavy roof timber. Salazar reached for his wand and helped his friend out by levitating the heavy wood beam up far enough so he could wiggle free. He resisted the urge to leave him there. He certainly deserved it.

"When do we leave?" he asked, standing and brushing himself off. How dejected he must look and sound. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

"You've changed your mind?" Godric stood up, his thick hair in his face. His blue eyes shone even more brightly contrasted with the black soot that stained his cheeks.

Salazar shrugged his shoulders, trying hard to look nonchalant. "That was my last cauldron."

Three days later, the two friends journeyed north. The sun shone brightly, streaming through the trees that shadowed their path. Adventure and possible fortune lay before them, leaving bitter disappointment farther and farther behind.

"You couldn't have afforded horses for us?" Salazar complained, shifting his pack on his back. His shoulders burned at the weight of it despite his effort to lighten it that morning. He mourned the loss of his notebooks, but he couldn't carry them any farther.

"We don't have the gold yet, my friend," Godric answered, cheerfully swinging his sword to cut the stray branches that crowded the worn path through the woods.

"Surely your father could have loaned us a pair. Maybe a donkey to carry the packs." He shifted his again. It was useless. There was no comfortable position for it.

"He needs them for the fields," Godric said. He turned back and looked at Salazar, his features full of concern. "Are you sure you don't want to stop at your family's estate?"

Salazar nodded, wincing at the term 'estate'. A crumbling castle held together with magic surrounded by lands going to waste because his father wasn't interested in farming them hardly counted as an estate.

He was sure about bypassing it. There was nothing there for him. He had been one of too many, his mother overrun by her brood while his father stayed in his study, tinkering with potions and inventing useless charms. He had left when he was fifteen, determined to make something of the Slytherin name, a name that wizards everywhere would respect.

"Where is this dragon of yours?" he asked again. He already knew the answer but he didn't want Godric asking about his family. His parents didn't dote on each other like the Gryffindors did. Nor did Godric have eleven brothers and four sisters competing for the love and attention of his parents.

Something rustled in the bushes. Probably a rabbit, Salazar surmised.

"Just north of here," Godric answered. "He's sitting in a cave with piles and piles of gold he's stolen from the local lords. Who knows, he might have a pretty maiden up there or two."

"We're better off with the gold," Salazar muttered. His luck with women was dubious at best, and with Godric around it became nonexistent. His sharp angular face, dark hair and beady eyes couldn't compare to his friend's blond waves, blue eyes, and sturdy build.

"I always knew you were a miser, but a monk too!" Godric exclaimed. Salazar frowned. He wasn't a monk; he just hadn't found a girl who could capture his interest.

"You know we wouldn't have to walk the entire way if you would just learn to Apparate." He shifted his pack again, but it was useless. There was no comfortable position for it. Months of brewing potions had left him ill prepared for a cross-country trek.

"We wouldn't have to walk if you would consider learning to use a broomstick," Godric retorted. Salazar grimaced.

"I refuse to sit on one of those things for hours on end. I'd rather walk." The recent trend for using brooms for transportation rather than sweeping boggled his mind. He had heard tales of men in distant lands using carpets, and then there was his father who had suggested butter churns, and none of them sounded like wise ideas when compared to the ease of Apparition.

"Then stop complaining."

There was that noise again, a rustle in the bushes. Salazar put his hand up, motioning to Godric to stop. They halted.

"What are you doing?"

"Sshh," Salazar hissed. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Another rustle. Godric tilted his head and Salazar could see that he heard this time. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the bushes. Godric gripped his sword tighter, ready to pounce on anything that might bound out of the bushes.

"Come out of there," he demanded. He hoped he was wrong, that it was just a rabbit or a lost Muggle, but he got the feeling it was something much worse. This forest was full of dark magical creatures.

"State your purpose and business for being in these woods," a voice said with an imperial air. It belonged to a girl, whose head became visible over the foliage as she stood up. Her hair was a tangled mess of dark brown curls and she wore a dark green dress that matched her eyes. "And for goodness sakes, put that thing down. Are you planning on protecting yourself by poking me with a stick?"

"We're just humble travelers, milady," Godric said, bowing elegantly. He sheathed his sword and stepped forward, wanting to kiss her hand no doubt. Salazar remained where he stood, his wand still pointed at this eavesdropper, his stare never faltering.

"That's not what I heard. I heard that you two are dragon hunters," she said, meeting his stare.

"You heard wrong," Salazar said.

"These are my father's lands. I can turn you over to him or you can take me with you on your quest. It's your decision." She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her nose up in the air, waiting for their answer. Salazar glanced over at Godric, who stood agape. They had never before encountered such a woman.

"You want to go dragon hunting?" Godric asked with disbelief.

"I want some adventure," she nearly growled. She dropped her arms, but Salazar noticed that she clenched her fists in frustration. "I'm tired of sitting in a tower waiting for the men to come home while I embroider pillows. It isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair," he told her, dropping his wand. This girl trying to play at being a man and an adventurer posed no threat. She only wasted their time. He started to walk away, leaving her and Godric behind. His retreat only made her angrier.

"I'll turn you in. You have to eat somehow which means you're poaching. You know what they do to poachers?" she asked desperately, trailing after Salazar. "You have two choices. Have your hand cut off or take me with you."

"Or tie you up and leave you here," he said, whipping around, his wand in hand. Ropes jumped out of its end and coiled around her tightly. She let out a surprised shriek and fell to the ground writhing like a worm on a fishhook. He tried to suppress a smile, but failed miserably at the sound of her cursing at him.

"You bastard! You whoreson! Let me up this instant! I demand that you set me free!"

"We can't just leave her here," Godric said, coming up next to him. He looked down at her with pity. Pity they couldn't afford, Salazar thought.

"We can't take her with us either."

"What do we do then?" Before Salazar could answer that it wasn't their concern if the little harpy was found by wolves or bandits, a sharp crack sounded out. A large branch tumbled down from overhead, knocking Salazar to the ground. He tried pushing it off, but the collar of his shirt felt tighter, making it very hard to breathe.

"She's burning through the ropes," Godric exclaimed. He had jumped out of the way of the falling branch and was now too engrossed in their prisoner to pay attention to Salazar's struggles.

"St—stun her," he gasped.

"What?" Godric looked horrified at the thought of hurting a woman. Salazar was going to hurt him if he ever got out from underneath this branch. He clawed at his neck, trying to catch his breath.

"St—stun her," he repeated, his voice raspy and hoarse. The girl had managed to free herself of Salazar's ropes and stumbled to her feet. Even from where he laid ten feet away he could feel the spark of energy that surrounded her. What was more troubling was the angry glint in her eye. She came closer.

He pointed his wand and rasped out, "_Stupefy_!" The moment she crumpled to the ground, the tightness in his chest eased and he could breathe again. He pushed aside the branch that pinned him to the ground, standing up and brushing himself off.

"What did you do?" Godric asked.

"What you should have done, you idiot! She was killing me."

"But how?" He rushed over to where she had fallen. Carefully, he maneuvered her onto her back, pushing the hair from her face. Salazar stayed back, his wand still out just in case. Godric finally retrieved his own wand from his sleeve and woke her.

"You act like you've never seen a witch in your life," Salazar said. The girl's eyes fluttered open and she coughed as Godric put one arm around her and helped her to sitting.

"I am not a witch," she sputtered. She leaned against Godric's chest even as she stared murderously at Salazar.

"No Muggle could do what you just did," he argued.

"He's right," Godric said in soothing tones. "You displayed a raw talent for magic just then. Remind me not to make you angry again anytime soon."

"But does that mean you're…"

"Wizards," Salazar finished for her. Her brow furrowed in consternation and she turned to Godric who nodded. She stilled for a long moment, trying to work out in her head all the odd coincidences throughout the years that could be attributed to her having magical abilities.

"And what's a Muggle?"

"Someone without magic," Godric explained.

"Certainly not you," Salazar spat. "You nearly killed me just now."

"_Teach me_," she whispered. Godric looked at him, looked at him with the same look he always did when he wanted Salazar to do something he knew was stupid, like try to breed Manticores, or hunt for treasure guarded by dragons, and now bringing along an untrained witch with a temper.

"This is ludicrous!" he protested, dropping his wand and shooting a pleading glance in Godric's direction. But he knew it was useless. Godric was already telling her the many different spells he could teach her. She grew more and more excited with each one as he helped her to her feet, his arm still at her waist to steady her.

"But I don't even know your names," she said a few moments later. Salazar resisted pointing out that it hadn't mattered one whit what their names were when she had insisted on following them into danger.

"Godric Gryffindor at you service, milady," his friend said with a bow. He kissed her knuckles, making her blush.

Looking up at him expectantly, Salazar muttered, "You can call me Slytherin."

"And I'm Amy. Shall we be going?" And then she started down the path in front of them, the green fabric of her dress blending in with the trees around her. She looked almost like a forest sprite. A few yards ahead, she turned around with an impatient glance. Godric trotted to catch up while Salazar gritted his teeth. He could already tell that there was nothing but trouble ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Two**

They walked for hours before finding a clearing and settling in for the night. Amy surprised Salazar by not talking too much, though she looked uncomfortable about the prospect of sleeping on the ground.

"There are no inns nearby?" she asked as Godric spread out his bedroll.

"Adventurers don't stay in inns," Salazar said with only a hint of sarcasm. She scowled at him, saving her smiles for Godric when he Conjured another bedroll for her. His poor taste extended to including flowery embroidery on the edges.

Shaking his head in disgust, Salazar set about starting a fire and getting some food. A few waves of his wand later, the flames licked at three plates of roasted chicken.

"B-but how did you do that?" Amy asked, her mouth hanging open.

"Magic," Salazar answered.

"My mother is an excellent cook. She makes us dinner, sets it aside, and then Salazar makes it appear here. We warm it up and eat it. So, not poachers after all, eh?" Godric explained, reaching for a greasy chicken leg. He bit into it with the enthusiasm of a starving dog. Even the presence of a woman wasn't enough to remind him of his manners. Amy picked at her own delicately, taking a few leaves to wipe her fingers in between bites.

"How did you know you were wizards?" she asked. Salazar studied her face in the dimming light. Her curiosity was unmasked and genuine. He imagined it must have been horrible to grow up and never know what she was; only that she was different.

"Our parents taught us magic. It varies from household to household on how much or little a person is taught." he said.

"What happens to people like me, those of us who don't have magical parents?"

"They either learn on their own or they never do," Godric said, stretching his legs out.

Amy's mouth formed a small 'o' as she nodded. "Will you show me?"

Godric scooted closer and pulled out his wand. "We'll start with something easy, _Wingardium Leviosa_." An apple rose out of his pack and bobbed in the air. Salazar watched on with a bored expression.

"Here you try," Godric said, handing her the wand. The apple fell to the ground with a thump. He slid closer, taking her wrist and showing her the movements. "Swish and flick, that's it, you have it. Now say the words."

"_Windium Levosa_," Amy tried, mangling the spell. The apple stayed on the ground. Half an hour later it hovered for a few seconds , but it didn't stay there long.

"Are you sure I'm a witch?" she asked, looking dejected. Godric tried to be reassuring, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"A wand is peculiar to its owner," he explained. Salazar tried not to gag at his patronizing tone and manner. Godric never could turn down an attentive female. And they swarmed to him like bears to honey. He laid back on his bedroll and closed his eyes.

"_Watch this,_" he heard Godric whisper. Whipping out his wand from his sleeve, he quickly cast a Shielding Charm. Godric's spell bounced off it and hit him instead. Peals of laughter rang out. Salazar sat up and opened his eyes to see Godric writhing around from a Tickling Charm. Amy stared on in horror.

Salazar smirked and laid back down. He wondered if she still wanted adventures now. He couldn't help but hope she wouldn't be there when he woke in the morning.

&&&&

But when he woke up, she was still there. In fact, her nose was inches from his, her eyes staring down into his.

"Good morning," she chirped. He pushed her away.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Seeing if you're ready to go. There are adventures to be had today." Salazar scowled, rubbing ay his eyes. He was not a morning person. A curse hovered on the edge of his tongue, but Godric prevented him from using it.

"I need your help, Amy," he said, beckoning her away from Salazar. She hurried over, anxious to prove her usefulness. He set her to work rolling up the beds with a wink in Salazar's direction. It took three seconds to clean up camp with a wand, but letting her do it would keep her out of their hair. They abandoned their camp an hour later. Salazar trailed behind the other two, trying to stay out of earshot while Godric occupied Amy by telling her the history of magic, with stories about Egyptian pharaohs and Merlin.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked Godric, skipping along next to him while they marched on. Salazar wondered at her energy, though she was missing the twenty-pound pack on her back.

"Doing what?"

"Why are you on this mission to fight this dragon?"

"It's killing peasants and stealing from lords. Someone has to stop it," Godric answered.

"Why you?" she asked.

Godric opened his mouth to answer, Salazar surmised it was something like what his friend had used to convince him into this crazy quest, but he interrupted. "Because Godric Gryffindor has never met a creature he didn't want to slay. And then there's the gold."

"But it doesn't belong to you," Amy argued.

"It doesn't belong to the dragon either." He looked at her suspiciously. "Is that why you're here? Have you lost your pearl necklace and you suspect a fire-breathing monster made away with it?"

"No, but they have stolen priceless treasures from my father" she said, becoming defensive. The cut and material of her dress along with her haughty manner told him she came from noble breeding, but this all but confirmed his suspicions. He knew why he ran away from home but he wondered why a noblewoman would be running away. He doubted they had much in common.

"Why are you here, Mr. Slytherin?"

Salazar glanced over at Godric. "I need the gold to continue my potions experiments. And I seem incapable of saying no to any hare-brained idea he presents me with."

Godric flashed him a toothy grin that he returned with a scowl. He really couldn't say no to him. He had met the young Gryffindor in a rowdy pub, not long after he had run away from home. Salazar didn't have the same silver tongue his friend had, or the same silver sword, and when he had gotten himself into a bit of trouble, Godric had come to his aid. They had been friends ever since.

"You've fought other dragons?" Amy asked, sounding very impressed. Godric shook his head and regaled her with their other adventures. They sounded like so much fun when told later, Salazar realized, but he had only experienced unadulterated fear when they faced that Manticore. Lagging behind, he let Godric occupy the ever-increasing curiosity of Amy. His stories led him to a quick lesson about magical creatures.

When they stopped to lunch, he watched on as Godric foolishly tried to teach her more spells, borrowing Salazar's wand since his was too volatile in her hands.

"Ex-pel-li-ar-mus," he sounded out. Amy's tongue tripped over the syllables with disastrous results, setting fire to a small bush in front of her.

Salazar laughed to himself. Teaching a fully-grown woman who had questionable magical abilities defensive spells was a waste of time in his opinion. Muggleborns were better off not knowing of their magical abilities in his opinion. Prejudices ran high among Muggles concerning witches and wizards and an untrained witch couldn't defend herself against the pitchforks and torches. She was asking for trouble if she ever decided to return home.

"Now you try," Godric said. He counted to three and threw the curse at her. She doubled over laughing. Casting the countercharm, he had her try again.

This time, she disappeared before the Itching Jinx hit her. Godric looked around frantically. "What happened?"

Salazar just shrugged. But then he heard laughter floating down from above. Looking above, he saw Amy sitting precariously on a branch high in the trees.

"The view is amazing!" she shouted down at them.

"How exactly do you plan on getting down?" Salazar asked, but nature answered him before she could. A loud crack sounded out and Amy screamed as she tumbled down. Godric's pointed his wand at her and slowed her descent down. She was breathing hard when she landed, but there was a smile on her face.

"That was quite an adventure," she said.

"Did you hit your head?" Godric asked, rushing over. Salazar shook his head, suddenly understanding her motivations.

"That's why you ran away, isn't it? You can only perform magic when you're in danger. Sitting and sewing never gave you that tingling rush of power. Well, you can put yourself in danger, we don't need any." She cocked her head and surveyed him.

"You're dragon hunters and you want to avoid danger? I think you're in the wrong profession then," she retorted, standing to her feet. She dusted off her dress, and then turned her face up to glare at him.

"We won't be needing any extra when we have a dragon breathing fire down on us," he answered, raising his voice. He stepped closer, using his height to intimidate her, but if anything it only incensed her more.

"You just said my magic thrives in dangerous situations. I would think I would be an asset rather than a hindrance in that case." Her face twisted with anger and she raised her voice to match his own. Godric stood to the side, saying nothing, just watching the two argue.

"Your magic is unpredictable. We can't rely on you to do anything. You should go home to your mother and paint your screens." He stepped even closer and so did she. They were nose to nose now.

"I embroidered pillows," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Whatever," he spat.

Suddenly, she turned and walked away. He thought he had won, but then she spoke again, softer this time. "I can't," she said, sounding small and defeated.

"Why not?" Godric asked, going to her. He never could resist comforting a distressed damsel. Just like he couldn't say no to hunting down a dragon. With him as a best friend, Salazar would never rid himself of this girl. He especially didn't like the way he put his arm around her shoulder.

"My father thinks I was kidnapped by the dragon," she confessed.

"Why would he think that?" Godric asked, though Salazar thought the answer was pretty obvious.

"It might have been the ransom note he found shortly after I left." Tears shone in her eyes and she sniffled a little. Godric was completely taken in by this new desperate Amy, but Salazar wasn't so easily fooled.

"Dragons can write?" he asked skeptically.

She glared at him, breaking her act for a moment. "My father isn't the brightest. But he knows what I'm worth. Whoever brings me back will be rewarded greatly," she said, turning towards Godric and taking his hand in hers, whose eyes shone with pleasure. He could almost see visions of his friend marrying a nobleman's daughter and building a castle from the gold they would find bobbing around in his head. He had to put a stop to this once and for all.

Salazar strode over to them and grabbed Amy by the arm, pulling her away from Godric. "We can scorch your dress, muss up your hair, and send you home to tell of your great escape, leaving us wizards to fight the real dragon."

She ripped her arm from his grasp. "You'll do no such thing. I am coming with you. If you're so worried about my magic then you can teach me. I i _can /i _learn."

"You're too old," he protested. "You should have started your training years ago." She really did look desperate this time, reaching out and clinging to Salazar's chest. She looked up at him with such beseeching eyes that he almost lost himself in their depths.

"Please," she pleaded. "I can't go back there." Salazar considered it for a moment, imagining what it must be like to be a witch amongst Muggles. To sense that one was special but never really understanding why or how. And then to learn what it is that set you apart…he wouldn't want to go back either.

"Only," he said, twisting out of her grip, "if you can cast this spell right—prove to me you can learn a simple defensive charm."

He grabbed her wrist and shoved the wand into her hand. "Like this," he said, moving her wrist in the proper movement. "Now say the words," he demanded.

The moment the words left her mouth, a spark of energy burst through Salazar's chest, traveling down his arm and out the tip of the wand. Godric's wand leapt from his hand, and the blast of the spell threw him back against the tree trunk behind him. He blinked in surprise, rubbing at his head.

"I think you've got it," he said dazed.

Salazar let go of Amy. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and took a step back. He hadn't been prepared for the pure rush of power.

"That was…" she said, trailing off. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. Her hair stood up on end. She looked as surprised and in awe as Salazar felt.

"Amazing," he finished.

"So I'm coming with you?"

Salazar stared at her, a hard look in his eye. He didn't want to take her. But he liked the power he felt. If they could harness that then she would be an asset, he admitted begrudgingly.

"Don't complain to me if you get eaten by a dragon," he said, plucking his wand from her hand and stalking off.

"I won't!" she called after him. The smile in her voice made him cringe. Why did he get the feeling he was going to regret ever agreeing to any of this?

After dinner that night, they sat round the fire. Amy stared into the crackling flames, mesmerized by the dancing reds and oranges. Godric transfigured a fallen branch into a guitar of sorts and was attempting to pick out a melody, while Salazar took out his knife—a family heirloom and the only thing he had taken from home when he left—and carved a small piece of wood. It was meant to be a figurine but it looked more like a lump of wood than anything else at the moment.

"I do seek out danger in an attempt to provoke my magic," she confessed with no prompting. Salazar looked up at her. She kept her gaze focused on the fire as she continued on.

"It happened the first time when I was seven. We had a swing in the stables that we played on. The rope snapped while I was on it. I should have broken my neck, but instead I just bounced. I took to jumping off things for months after that, until one time it didn't work and I broke my wrist."

Godric raised his head, stopping his playing. She told her tale without pause.

"When I was twelve a horse tried to throw me off him. Somehow, I disappeared from his back to the safety of my bed. I thought it had been a dream until my mother came in hysterical, convinced I was dead."

"At thirteen, my father held a banquet. My mother insisted that I wear this horrendous dress. On the night of the party, it mysteriously disappeared and in its place was a lovely pink satin—like something out of my daydreams."

"I always felt different. My grandmother told my mother early on that I was a product of the devil. I grew up hearing that, and sometimes I even believed it. Last week, I decided that I had had enough. I left. I imagine there weren't too many tears shed at my disappearance." She bit her lip, and Salazar could see that her eyes glistened.

"The first time I did magic I was five. I wanted the toy my brother was playing with. One minute it was in his hand and in the next it flew across the room into mine," Godric said.

"I set my older sister's hair on fire," Salazar stated. Amy looked at him shocked. "She was pinching me," he said in his defense.

"What will you do with the gold?" Amy asked, changing the subject. Salazar was glad for the switch. This was much easier to discuss than painful childhoods. He had been afraid that if she kept talking, he might be compelled to share his own stories of neglect and of an absentee father.

"Haven't thought about it," Godric answered, looking up from his playing. "We have to find and kill the dragon first."

"You mean you're risking your life and you don't know why?" She sounded exasperated, and Salazar wondered what her reasons were. She said she wanted adventures. And she had mentioned being left in a tower to sew. Was there someone who had tried locking her away? He smiled at the idiot who tried to contain her. It was too big a job. She was more force of nature than she was woman.

"For the glory of it. People for miles around won't soon forget the name Godric Gryffindor when I slay the dragon." Salazar cleared his throat and glared at his friend. "Or the Slytherin name for that matter," he added sheepishly.

"And what about you?" Amy turned and asked Salazar. He shrugged, not bothering to look up from his carving. Not that he hadn't thought about it. Like Godric, he wanted the respect that would come with success. It was why he had left his home in the first place. The gold would help him live comfortably while he brewed potions. It might even be enough to tempt a good-looking woman into his bed. What more did a man need?

She accepted his answer with as little grace as Godric's, harrumphing a bit to show her disapproval, but she said nothing more. They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire and the random notes Godric picked out on the guitar. They never quite melded into a recognizable tune, but they were hypnotic nonetheless.

"What about a school?" Both men looked at her.

"A school?" Godric asked.

"Yes, for magical children. You complained earlier that the standard of teaching varies from household to household and Muggleborns like me don't ever get the chance to learn. If there was a school they could attend, higher standards could be set and achieved."

"A school?" Salazar repeated. The idea seemed…preposterous. And it implied much more work and frustration than hiding away with his cauldrons like he planned to do.

"You want glory? No one is going to remember in twenty, thirty years the name of two men who slayed a dragon. Can you tell me who killed the monster of Loch Ness? No. But the founders of a school? Your names would be passed down from generation to generation. You would be immortal."

Now that had an appeal, Salazar relented. He liked the idea of children learning his name. The teachers would hold him up as a paragon of respectability and admiration. Children would aspire to be like him.

"I didn't think anyone had killed the Loch Ness monster," Godric said. Salazar wondered where it ranked on his list of creatures to seek out and destroy with his silver sword. His friend liked nothing better than taking on angry vicious beasts.

"You're missing the point," Amy insisted.

"I don't know…" Godric trailed off. Salazar sensed that a school didn't seem exciting enough for him.

"You're both very good teachers," Amy said. "You could teach defensive spells," she told Godric.

"And what about me?" Salazar asked, interested to hear what her answer would be after their afternoon lesson. He had been the one to teach her the spells, not Godric. With him as her teacher, she had ended up falling from the top of a tree and setting a bush on fire. She blushed, but Godric saved her from answering.

"Potions of course."

"Of course," he replied.

"And you would want someone to teach other things as well. You mentioned being able to turn things into other things, change the shapes of objects…"

"Transfiguration," Godric supplied.

"Yes, and Charms, and—"

"Herbology," Salazar filled in. "If I'm to teach Potions, I'll expect my students to know what plants are what."

"So you'll do it?" Amy squealed. The sound of it grated at Salazar's nerves, but he couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm on her face.

"We have to find and kill the dragon first," Godric said, picking back up his guitar. Amy's face fell at his nonchalance, and Salazar found himself comforting her.

"We'll think on it," he promised her, telling himself that it was only because he wanted her to shut up on the subject that he said anything at all. Her smile returned at his words, and she didn't say anything else. He went back to his carving, but he couldn't help but watch as her eyes began to droop. After half an hour, Godric finally finished with his songs and declared that they should get some rest.

Salazar agreed, but even after trekking for miles through the forest with his pack on his back and all the extensive magic of the afternoon, he found sleep hard to find. He kept thinking about Amy's idea about a school.


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Three**

The next day commenced with another magic lesson with Amy. Salazar watched as Godric tried in vain to coax a decent spell from her. After a handful of failed attempts, he decided to step in and take over.

"I think it's apparent that you won't be teaching Charms in our future endeavor as educators," Salazar said with a smirk. He took the wand from Amy's hand.

"Let's start with something easy." She furrowed her brow, but let him step closer. He stood behind her, taking her wrist in his hand like he had the day before. Directing her hand, he lit a blue flame fire. The intensity of their combined power wasn't as overwhelming as it had been the other day, but it was still a heady feeling. Amy jumped back in surprise, colliding with his chest.

"A fire!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, very useful for things like cooking and staying warm," he said. She turned around and frowned at him. "Now you try." He handed her the wand. She repeated the words and wand movements. A fire burst out of the end of the wand, but she hadn't been watching where the wand had been pointed. Salazar's sleeve lit afire. He shook his arm frantically.

"Excellent," he said sarcastically as he beat out the flames. He scowled at the blackened fabric.

"Thank you," she said with a cheeky grin.

"Just watch where you point that thing," he said, pointing to the wand.

The third day, she mastered some more Defensive spells. Both Godric and Salazar agreed that they should start with spells that would keep her safe while traveling with them. She hardly needed some housekeeping charms marching through the forest on the way to kill a deadly dragon.

"No, like this," he instructed her. Her wand movements continued to be sloppy, and Salazar blamed it on her late start. She tried again. Godric, standing a short distance away, bent over, a cry escaping his lips. Amy looked over at Salazar with a mixture of pride and concern on her face. Salazar grabbed the wand and reversed the spell.

"So?" he asked.

"That hurt!" Godric exclaimed.

"I'd say you've mastered that one," he told Amy. She sighed in relief, a smile creeping over her face.

"I've learned another one," she told him. Salazar looked to Godric who tried hard to look innocent but failed. "Can I show you?" He nodded. She took the wand back from him and cast a fire. It floated in front of their faces—blue flames in the shape of a bell. This time she managed to create it out of thin air rather than Salazar's sleeve.

"I've already seen that one," Salazar said.

"But not this one—_Augamenti_," she said. Water shot out of the tip of the wand, extinguishing the flame. Salazar raised an eyebrow. He was impressed. In just a short time, she showed quite a lot of potential. It was a shame she had been born into a Muggle family. If she had started earlier, she could have been on her way to being a powerful witch.

"Very good."

"Thank you," she said, turning to face him. But she forgot to release the spell, and as she did so water shot into Salazar's face. Godric let out a loud guffaw. Amy shook the wand, but water continued to pour out, wetting the rest of Salazar. His hand shot out and grabbed the wand from her.

"You are starting to irritate me," Salazar spat, trying to shake off the water. Rivulets dripped down his nose. His tunic and trousers were soaked and the wetness seeped into his shoes.

"Well, you are making me crazy," she retorted. "You didn't teach me how to stop it," she said, turning to Godric. He just shrugged, still chuckling. Salazar stared at her with a deep frown. She turned and stared right back. Salazar sensed that she would not be backing down, and with a long-suffering sigh, he took a step back and dried his clothes with a wave of his wand.

"You can do that in mere moments, and you're giving me a hard time about a little water?" she asked indignantly.

"It wasn't a little water," he retorted. "And it's the principle of the thing."

"I think we should start moving again," Godric said, stepping between the two. Salazar took a deep breath, and nodded his agreement. He picked up his pack and walked out of the small clearing they had designated as an impromptu classroom, not waiting to see if Amy or Godric followed. He didn't want to hear the two of them chatter on about magic, and Godric's past adventures. The quiet and the walking would help to clear his head.

&&&

"Have you seen Amy?" Godric asked the next morning after they had packed up.

Salazar shook his head. "Maybe she decided to go home. We should leave without her."

Godric frowned. "We can't leave a defenseless woman alone in these woods. She'd get herself killed." Salazar looked at him skeptically. She was hardly defenseless, he thought, remembering how she had almost killed him at their first meeting. He tried reminding Godric of that fact, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"We have to find her," he insisted.

Salazar sighed, agreeing to go left while Godric went right in an effort to locate her. He marched through the brush, preparing an irate speech about her irresponsibility and lack of consideration when he found her staring intently at an apple. It was perched on a fallen log, and she kneeled in front of it, her eyes never leaving it. She looked deranged in his opinion, making him question once again why she should be allowed to continue traveling with them. The minute they arrived at a town, village, or even lonely cabin, he would insist to Godric that they leave her there for her own safety, and his own sanity.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to make it move," she answered, her eyes never leaving the apple. It stayed motionless on the table. "With the spell Godric taught me."

"How is it coming?" He sat down next to her.

"Not so well," she said with a frown, "though it would be easier if I wasn't being distracted." She turned and scowled at him.

"Am I distracting you? I thought I was just sitting here quietly, wondering why you wandered off without telling Godric or me and why we didn't just leave you for the wolves." He glared at her. She turned and returned his scowl.

"You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you," she said, turning back to the apple with a determined look. Even with her eyes narrowed, it didn't move.

"Is it supposed to be doing something?"

"You just wait." She clapped her hands down on the log and moved her head closer. The apple rolled onto its side. Amy stood to her feet, biting at her lip so hard it started to bleed. The apple wobbled, spinning in a circle. Salazar watched on in amazement. She was doing it. She was actually performing wandless magic. The apple rose into the air, wavering only slightly.

He looked from the floating fruit over to Amy. She trembled from the effort, her fists clenched by her side. And then suddenly she collapsed. The apple fell back onto the log with a thud. It rolled off the backside and fell into a pile of dead leaves. Salazar dropped to the ground next to her. Her skin was pale and covered in sweat.

Taking her by the shoulder, he shook her, calling her name, "Amy!"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Did it work? Did it move?" she whispered.

"No more," he said, wrenching her up from the ground by her elbow.

"But it worked!"

"And it's going to kill you if you don't use a wand. You shouldn't even be practicing magic."

"Why? Because my parents are wizards?" she asked indignantly, pulling away from his grasp with a huff.

"Because you haven't had the proper training," he argued. This discussion was starting to get old in his opinion.

"And who taught you? Who taught Godric? How can you know they were qualified to be teaching you anything?"

"This isn't about me," he spat. "This is about how you can't control your magic. You're going to kill yourself, or worse someone else." It was mainly him he worried about; she had almost killed him before.

"Everyone is taught different things at different times. There's no standard by which to judge me, so I really wish you would stop," she said before stomping off in a huff. The crunching of the sticks and leaves under her footfalls faded away, leaving Salazar with just the chirping of the birds. He didn't like to admit it, but she had a point.

&&&

They stopped that night at a small house made entirely of gingerbread. Large candies trimmed the roof and door, and the smell of cake made Salazar salivate. The wide-eyed look on Amy's face was priceless.

"Don't the forest animals eat away at her walls?" she asked, reaching out to touch one. Salazar pulled her hand away, but not before she broke off a piece. The door swung open then, a wrinkled hag standing there and staring up at them. Amy mumbled an apology, but the old woman just smiled.

"I can always bake some more," she reassured her. And then she beckoned them in for some real food and beds.

Inside was larger than the outside suggested. Something that didn't surprise Salazar, but he noticed the astonishment spread across Amy's face. Multiple teapots sat on the stovetop. Steam poured from them, each whistling a different tune. A spinning wheel sat in the corner, working diligently by itself. A fire crackled and popped in the fireplace with a cheery rug and two chairs sitting in front of it.

The old woman motioned for them to sit at the long wooden table in the middle of the room, shooing the piles of dishes and utensils to the other end. Amy stood back while they rearranged themselves, three plates staying behind.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. All three of them nodded. "Good." She took her wand out of her apron pocket and waved it three times over each plate. Instantly, food appeared on each. For Godric, a turkey leg. For Salazar, a bowl of stew. And for Amy, a piece of mutton on toasted bread.

"How did you do that?" Amy asked aghast. Apparently, several days with two wizards wasn't enough to convince her of the reality of magic.

"Magic, my dear. I could teach if you like. There are many spells a young woman like you ought to know," the hag said, looking Amy up and down. Salazar didn't like it. Something felt wrong.

"She has teachers already," he said sharply. Amy and Godric looked at him surprised. He had made his opinion of her tutelage under them well known. And it wasn't this.

"Too bad," the old woman said, squeezing Amy's arm. "I would love some company around here." Her hand lingered on her arm. Salazar shot Godric a calculating look. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and took the hag by the arm, escorting her to the remaining chair.

"I need some adventure before I learn household magic," Amy said, tearing into her sandwich. The hag smiled, but Salazar could tell it was forced. She seemed disappointed, but she sat down and questioned them thoroughly about their quest.

He watched with disdain as Godric answered every question enthusiastically, laying on the charm. Amy chimed in here and there.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" she asked as they finished their food. "I have some potions to check on." And then she left, leaving though the back door.

"Did you have to tell her everything?" Salazar asked the moment she left.

"And why not? It's no secret we are out to kill the dragon," he said, kicking back in his chair and belching loudly. Amy wrinkled her nose.

"She seems nice," she offered.

"She's hiding something," Salazar said moodily, getting up and pacing around the room. There was nothing that supported his suspicions.

He threw himself down in a chair and contemplated the fire, only half listening to Amy and Godric talk about the different spells she was currently learning. They stopped when the hag came back in from outside. She shooed them off to bed, Godric and Salazar in a spare bedroom and Amy on a makeshift cot in an alcove off the main room.

Salazar waited until he heard the even breathing of Godric in the bed next to him before he got up. He left off his shoes, hoping his socked feet would lessen the noise of him moving around. With everyone asleep, he hoped he could poke around a bit.

He lit his wand in the main room, instantly waking Amy up. "What are you doing?" she hissed, rising up from her cot.

"Nothing, now go back to sleep," he admonished.

"I can't go back to sleep if I was never asleep in the first place," she said, getting out of bed completely. He noticed in the dim light that she wore only her thin shift. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he admitted, sticking his wand in various corners looking for anything that might confirm his suspicions of the old woman.

"Maybe we should check out back. She did disappear for quite some time earlier this evening," Amy suggested.

"We?"

"Yes, we." She walked to the door and then turned to face him, waiting on him to follow her. "I can't see anything without the light from your wand. Hurry up!"

He joined her quickly, too tired to argue at the moment, and also knowing that she would pitch a fit worthy of waking everyone up if he didn't let her tag along. They crept outside and around the back of the cottage. Amy clung to his elbow, determined not to let him get away from her. At the back, they discovered a small walkway that led them to a small outbuilding hidden away by some trees.

"What's in there, do you think?" she whispered.

"Only one way to find out." He opened the door slowly, wincing as it creaked and groaned. Inside he heard a soft whimper. It sounded like a child. Amy heard it too because she rushed past him to find the source. He tried grabbing her arm, but she pulled away, leaving him with no choice but to follow her and hope whatever made the noise wasn't dangerous.

"Are you alright?" she asked the unseen person, cooing like a mother over a sick child. "It's okay, we're here now."

"Who are you?" a voice asked.

"Who are you?" Salazar said, shining his light down where Amy kneeled, revealing an iron cage with a small boy inside.

"My name's Oswald. Have you come to let me out?"

"Why are you in there in the first place?" Amy furrowed her brow at his harsh tone, taking the boy's hand in hers and making more shushing noises that he assumed were meant to reassure the child. They only made him want to knock her upside the head.

"We ate a part of her house. So she locked us up."

"We?" Amy asked. She sounded slightly scared. Salazar remembered that she had taken part of the little house when they had arrived earlier.

"My sister. She's gone now. The witch came and got her and I don't know where she is," he said, starting to cry. He remembered the old lady looking Amy up and down, how she had pinched her arm. She was eating children. He wondered how many others had fallen prey to her candy charms.

"We have to get him out of there," Amy said, standing. She placed her hand on his arm and looked up at him with a beseeching look. It didn't take much to convince him.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," the hag said from behind them. Salazar wheeled around, pushing Amy behind him. She held out a wand, closing in slowly.

"_Expelliarmus!_" he yelled. But nothing happened.

"Didn't I tell you?" the hag said with a cackle.

"There's a special charm in and around my house that protects me from the likes of you. It only recognizes my magic. You'll find your wand is useless here. And don't you narrow your eyes at me, missy. Wandless magic won't get you anywhere either," she said to Amy. He could hear her harrumph from behind him. "But I'm willing to strike a deal with you."

"And what is that?" Salazar said. He hoped to stall her as long as possible in the hopes that he might be struck with a sudden idea to get them out of this mess. He wished Godric wasn't such a heavy sleeper or he might consider yelling for help. At the moment, he thought that would only endanger them further.

"You and your friend may go in the morning, but she stays behind." She pointed at Amy. Salazar could hear her gasp and felt her fingers tighten their hold on the back of his shirt.

"Why her?"

"You men are too old. Too much muscle. But with a few weeks and some good food, she'd be fat enough to suit me." There was a ravenous look in her eye as she looked Amy up and down. Amy shifted uncomfortably. He reached back a hand to calm her.

"No," he said firmly.

"Then I'll have to kill you."

"Put your wand down!" Godric appeared out of nowhere, brandishing his sword, and looking fearsome. Salazar had never been so happy to see him in all his life.

"Your wand won't work in here," the hag said, not even bothering to turn around. But she jumped when Godric poked her in the back with the tip of his weapon.

"But I imagine a sword will," he said. She whipped around then with a look of fury that made her even uglier than she already was.

"Why you…"

"Stand aside," Godric demanded. "NOW," he said when she hesitated. At sword point, he took her wand and fished around in her pockets for the key to the cage. He tossed the keys to Salazar who unlocked the cage. The boy inside didn't waste a moment getting out. And before anyone could speak a word, he had scurried out the door and into the night.

"So much for a thank you," Salazar muttered.

"Do you blame him?" Amy asked, nodding towards Godric and his sword. "He's just as scary as she is. Maybe more so."

He didn't get a chance to answer, Godric asking for his help to tie up the old witch. With her secure, they gathered up their things and hurried away into the night, with only the moon and the light from their wands to guide them through the trees.

"Had enough adventures yet?" Salazar asked Amy sardonically as they fled. He noticed she stayed very close to the both of them, her eyes darting back and forth into the darkness at every little noise.

"Never," she said defiantly even as she clutched at his hand. Somewhere out there a werewolf howled. "We saved that boy's life."

"But who's going to save yours?" he asked softer, leaning in close.

"I have every confidence in…" She paused. He waited. "Godric," she finished. She was teasing him. Salazar scowled and marched off. They wouldn't have discovered the boy if it hadn't been for his intuition and determination to follow his hunch, but like always, it was Godric who got all the glory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Four**

Salazar woke up the next morning stiff and sore from their flight the night before. He almost lamented the loss of the feather bed he had vacated so quickly in his search for something nefarious until he remembered the look on that little boy's face as he was freed from his cage.

"We should start moving," Godric said as he gathered up his stuff. There was little to pack this morning since they had just collapsed where they stopped the night before.

"No more candy houses," he said, as he sat up and stretched.

Godric laughed. "Agreed. If something looks to good to be true then it probably is. Though I did get us some." He tossed Salazar a small cloth bundle. Inside were pieces of sweet gingerbread and other candies. He took a few pieces and shoved them in his mouth, savoring the gooey sweetness. It had been a long time since he had had any sweets.

"Mhmmm. How did you know to come looking for us?" Salazar asked, his mouth still full of gingerbread. He knew Godric to sleep through a raging thunderstorm before. The events of last night wouldn't have made nearly enough noise needed to wake him.

"I didn't sleep well. Something about that place bothered me. And when I woke up and first found you gone, and then Amy, I came looking."

"Good thing for us," he said wryly, trying hard to hide the resentment over Amy's comment from the night before. It wasn't Godric's fault that he was more charming. The fact that his friend merely shrugged his shoulders at the unsolicited praise spoke volumes about how their friendship functioned. It wasn't fame or glory Godric sought. That was Salazar. Godric only wanted the thrill of the adventure.

"Where is Amy?" Godric asked, looking around and noticing she wasn't present. Salazar hadn't realized she was missing, enjoying the quiet camaraderie that was lacking when she was around. Perhaps it was a pity after all that Godric had come along when he did last night. He could have offered Amy to the old hag, leaving her behind.

Except, of course, that the gallant Godric would have none of that.

"Wandered off again is my bet," he said with a yawn. "I'm starting to think she doesn't like us."

"Doesn't like you, you mean," Godric said, unsheathing his sword and heading into the brush to look for her. "Although…" He turned and looked back at Salazar with a look of appraisal that Salazar didn't appreciate.

"Although what?" he demanded.

Godric shrugged. "Nothing. Just a thought I had."

Salazar wanted to question him further on his preposterous thoughts, but he left, his sword swinging. He sincerely hoped Amy wasn't anywhere in that direction or she might get an arm or her head cut off before Godric realized he had found her. With a sigh, he went in the other direction. Patting his pockets, he felt that his wand was right where he left it, which meant that she was probably off practicing her magic like he had warned her not to.

A moment later, he heard a scream, and started running. Coming into a clearing, he saw her staring down a vicious looking snake. He could see a faint tremble in her hands and she looked as though it was taking all of her concentration to remember to breathe.

"_Leave her be_," he admonished the snake.

"_She almost stepped on me_," it argued.

"Help me, please," she whispered, never taking her eyes off the serpent. He walked closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"_Almost means she didn't step on you. Now move along,_" he said in a stern voice. It hesitated, but finally turned away and slithered into the underbrush. Amy turned and fell into his arms. He let out a surprised grunt at her sudden intrusion into his personal space.

"Oh! I was so scared!" she exclaimed, clinging to his neck. His arms wrapped around her and held her close.

"If that little thing scared you, what are you going to do when you see the dragon?" He felt her stiffen in his arms. He knew she hated any questioning of her right to be with them on this journey.

"What was that funny noise you were making?" she asked, changing the topic. She leaned back in his embrace to look him in the eye. He debated not telling her. She didn't know the Darker implications of his special talent. It wasn't something he often shared with other witches and wizards. But he could hardly deny it now.

"I can talk to snakes," he stated with a shrug of his shoulders. Perhaps if he downplayed its importance she would move on quickly. But he should have known better than that.

"Is that so?" She sounded like her cheeky self again. He dropped his arms and she stepped away from him. "Well, I can talk to birds." She made a chirping noise that sounded nothing like any bird he had ever heard.

He rolled his eyes. "And do they also talk to you?" She furrowed her brow.

"You talk to snakes and they talk back?" she asked incredulously. He didn't get to answer. He heard the snake hiss, and glanced over to see it rearing its head up again. Except this time, it was looking up at a gigantic and angry forest troll. He pulled out his wand, and shoved Amy behind him. She yelped at the sudden roar of the troll.

"_Stupefy_" he yelled, but the red light of the spell only bounced off the troll's thick skin, making him even angrier.

"_Impedimenta!_" Salazar tried. But that spell worked no better, only slowing the troll as he bore down on Amy and himself, swinging his massive club. It came within inches of Salazar's head, and he backed up, trying to think of what spell might work on a troll. Amy clenched her fists in the back panel of his shirt with a sharp intake of breath.

Suddenly, a great creaking noise startled both Salazar and the troll. He looked up to see the branches of the surrounding trees leaning down and taking hold of the troll. They wrapped around his arms, chaining him in place. He tried flailing, letting out a great loud groan, but the trees only held on tighter.

Salazar stared on in surprised horror. He shook his wand, testing to see if maybe he had inadvertently cast a spell.

"We should go," Amy whispered. Salazar turned and looked at her. Her face was drained of any color, and her breath came in short gasps.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. She shook her head and slumped forward. He just barely caught her as the troll let out another deafening roar, struggling to free itself from the branches' grasp. Throwing her over his shoulder, he hurried out of the clearing and back towards Godric and their camp.

"Godric!" Salazar yelled. "Time to go!"

"What happened?" Godric emerged from the brush in a tangle of branches out of breath and with a concerned look. He must have heard the noise of the trees.

"Troll. It's under control, but we should leave." He waved his wand, and his bag assembled itself and jumped into his hand. "Let's go!"

They hurried through the forest at a frantic pace. An hour later, they finally slowed, out of breath and aching from Amy's weight.

"I think we're safe here," Godric said. Salazar nodded. He laid Amy down on a bed of dead leaves. She groaned, and he let out a sigh of relief. It meant she wasn't dead. Godric kneeled down on her other side.

"What happened?" he asked Salazar.

"I think she stopped the troll from attacking us. The trees reached down and wrapped around his arms like chains. And then she just collapsed. It's not healthy for her to go on like this. She needs a wand. She needs proper training." He smoothed back her hair, worried at the pale color of her face and her uneven breathing.

"Do you know any Healing Spells?" he asked Godric, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. She had probably saved him from injury at the expense of her own health. His feelings for her couldn't help but change somewhat.

"Not really."

Salazar cursed, trying to remember a spell his mother used on him and his brothers when they had been wrestling. But this was different. She had drained herself. Her show of raw magic might kill her.

"We have to get her help," he said desperately.

"We aren't far from Hogsmeade village," Godric said. "You could Apparate and I'll catch up with you later. Salazar nodded, grabbed Amy, and disappeared with a pop. He landed outside of an inn.

"I need a witch doctor and a room," he said, marching in and throwing some gold on the table. It was the last he had. When it was gone, he would be left with nothing but he couldn't think beyond getting Amy help. An old hag, bent over with age, nodded and directed him upstairs.

The room she led them to was small and dark. In the dim light, he could see that a rickety chair sat in one corner with a narrow bed and a small table in the other. It smelled smoky and dank. Salazar laid Amy on the bed, and immediately crossed the room and threw open the shutters.

A wrinkled old man, sporting a limp and smelling of herbs, entered the room just as the matron was leaving. He introduced himself as the mediwizard. Salazar moved out of his way, explaining in bits and pieces what had happened while he watched the man poke and prod Amy.

"You say she's Muggleborn?" the doctor asked. Salazar sensed the disdain, and almost felt offended until he remembered his reaction had been the same when he first met Amy. He nodded.

"It's not safe for her to practice magic without a wand and proper training. I suggest you Obliviate her and send her home to her own kind. She's better off there as it is. And so are you," he said, gathering up this things.

Turning around, he saw Salazar standing with his hands on his hips. He hadn't called the mediwizard to give him a lecture on Muggleborns place in wizard society, but to heal Amy, and he told him so.

The old man looked him up and down and finally said, "She'll pull through, but she needs some specific potions."

Salazar nodded. "Anything."

"And how are you going to pay for these potions?" the doctor asked. Salazar frowned.

"You'll get your money by the end of the week, but she needs those medicines now."

He fingered his wand, prepared to duel for the treatment Amy needed if he had to, but the older man simply scowled and nodded, promising to be back the next day. Salazar sighed, collapsing into the chair in the corner the moment the doctor left. With his head in his hands, he struggled to come up with a plan.

He didn't think the doctor would take credit on the promise that they would defeat a treasure-hoarding dragon in the next few days. Before Godric had come along, he had had been brewing potions to survive, but he had destroyed the last of his ingredients, and with no money to pay the doctor, there was no money to buy new materials.

A loud crash followed by raucous laughter drifted up from downstairs through the crack where the mediwizard had failed to close it all the way shut. The noise gave Salazar sudden inspiration. This wasn't a respectable establishment by any means, which meant there would be ways to make money, mainly gambling. It had been a long time since he had indulged in the vice of card playing, but tonight seemed a perfect time to start up again.

&&&

He had left home at the age of fifteen, and he might have returned home at the tender age of fifteen as well except that three weeks into his journey into the wide world he met a wizened old monk who took him in and taught him magic beyond the simple spells he had mastered under his mother's tutelage, things beyond housekeeping and gardening. The monk took him in, and nurtured his love of for the delicate and subtle nature of potions. He taught him how to coax stubborn plants to give up their secrets. And he unlocked the secrets of the human mind.

Legilimency, Salazar found, was a very useful skill indeed. For example, he knew that the one-eyed man next to him currently was bluffing. The other three at the table had already thrown in their cards, and were watching with interest the battle of wills between the final two. So far, none of them had caught on that Salazar was cheating. He had purposely lost a few hands so that they wouldn't become suspicious.

The man pushed in the last of his gold. Salazar feigned hesitation before throwing in the same amount. They flipped their cards. Just as he thought, his opponent's hand was awful. He had been bluffing. Reaching out, he raked in the money. It would buy Amy's potions and their room and board for the rest of the week. He resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

"It's been a pleasure, gentlemen," he said. He finished the last of his firewhisky and stood to leave.

"You're cheating!" his opponent accused him. Salazar stared down at the coins in his hands. He was too close to having what they needed. He couldn't lose it now.

"Winning and cheating are two different things," he said, trying his best to sound intimidating. He desperately wished that Godric was here with his shiny sword. People listened then. Looking up, he stared hard at the man. "And I don't cheat to win."

A long tense moment ensued in which each party debated their next move. The other man reached for his wand. But Salazar was faster. With a quick Disarming Spell he had the other man's wand. He swept his wand around the table in a warning gesture, hoping his bravado paid off. One drunk he could handle, but if his friends decided to take his side, then Salazar knew he was in trouble.

"He cheated!" the man exclaimed again.

The wizard next to him shook his head in disagreement. "You say that anytime you lose," he slurred. "You accuse me of cheating twice a week!"

"Fine, then," the one eyed man relented. "But you can't be leaving now," he said, reaching over clapping his hand over Salazar's and his gold coins. "We want the chance to win it back."

Salazar opened his mouth to respond with a curse, but the innkeeper's daughter appeared suddenly by his side. She smiled lasciviously at the men, leaning over the table so that they all had a pretty view of her ample chest.

"He's got a girl upstairs waiting for him," she said with a wink. "You wouldn't want to stop a bloke from having his fun, would you?" All but the one eyed man laughed coarsely and wished him well, and he took the opportunity to scurry upstairs.

What he found there wasn't encouraging. Amy was still in bed, pale as a ghost, and the sheen of sweat on her brow indicated a fever. She tossed and turned, mumbling in her sleep. Salazar pulled the chair from the corner over to her bed. Taking her hand in his, he attempted to calm her with soothing words. He wasn't used to being nursemaid, but she settled down some. He clenched her hand, pushing away thoughts that if he had been more adamant about sending her home in the first place she wouldn't be in this mess.

He fell asleep in the chair, his hand still covering hers.

&&&

He awoke the next morning feeling sore, his entire body protesting the hard wood and odd angle of impromptu bed. Looking up, he saw that Amy remained unchanged. Her skin was still ashen and she was hot to his touch. She needed those potions. Not waiting to splash some cold water on his face, or straighten his clothes, he rushed down the stairs to see if the doctor had come back in the night with them.

But the stairs that had brought him up to the room didn't take him back down to the main room of the inn, but to the cellar. He looked around confused. He tried going back up again, but ended up in the same place. In the dark, he could see that shelves lined the wall and someone had propped several barrels of ale in the corner. He turned to go back upstairs once more when he heard a giggle.

"Who's there?" he asked, pulling out his wand and pointing it into the darkness.

"You won't get anywhere by going up those stairs," a female voice said. She stepped into what little light there was, and he recognized her as the innkeeper's daughter from the night before. She looked to be about the same age as Amy, just a few years younger than himself, but with darker hair pulled back in a braid.

"And why not?"

"Because it's Tuesday, and on Tuesday they lead to the cellar. Now if it was Monday or even Sunday they would take you down to the main room."

"So how do I get out on a Tuesday?" he asked through clenched teeth. He really didn't have time for such nonsense.

"You could always jump out the window," she suggested. He advanced on her, his patience wearing thin.

"Tell me how to get out, NOW," he demanded.

"The third door on the left will take you downstairs on a Tuesday," she said. He nodded, turned, and stomped up the stairs. He could sense that the girl had followed him, but he was too concerned about getting out and getting Amy's potions to care. Counting off, he found the third door and opened it. The stairs led up.

He wheeled around. "Enough of this! That girl is going to die while you lead me about this maze."

"Do you like it?" she asked as though he hadn't just yelled at her. "It's a charm I invented myself. It looks like they go up but really they will take you down to the tap room, every third day that is." Seeing that he didn't believe her, he took his hand and led him up the stairs. It was true. Two minutes later, they arrived in the main room of the inn.

"I can make the chairs dance a jig too, if you'd like to see," she told him.

"Maybe later," he said, heading for the door.

"Rowena, have you been playing with the stairs again?" he heard the innkeeper yelling as he hurried into the street. After the maze in the inn, he was presented with yet another puzzle—just where did the mediwizard live?

The streets were crowded with merchants and farmers selling their goods. Witches bustled by with baskets full of fruits and vegetables. Owls flew overhead, carrying letters. Salazar navigated the winding streets, finally finding the mediwizard's place by the sign over the door with the smoking vial and the words "Petrie's Potions."

"I need those potions," he announced, after knocking on the thick wooden door.

"Come in, come in," the old man beckoned. Salazar had to stoop over to get through the door. It led into a dim room. A fire burned in the corner hearth, and dried herbs hung from the ceiling. A workbench sat in the middle, a smoking cauldron in the middle. Salazar immediately recognized the potion as the one the mediwizard had mentioned the day before.

"I have money," he said, holding out the galleons. The old man nodded.

"I'm just finishing up. How is she doing?" he asked, spooning the potion into a small flask.

"The same. Thank you, sir." He took the bottle from the wizard's outstretched hand, laying the coins on the table.

"She needs a wand."

"I know." And he would make sure she got one if, no when, he corrected, she woke up. It was his fault she was in this condition, and he would make sure that she never ended up here again.

"I'll stop by tomorrow to check on her," he said. Salazar thanked him and left.

Back at the inn, he tipped the potions down Amy's throat, and waited. And waited.


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Five**

Three days went by and nothing changed. Amy clung to life by a thread. The doctor hadn't showed up like he promised. And Salazar had yet to see Godric. Frustrated and angry, he set out for the doctor's house again. But when he got there, the windows were boarded up and the door locked.

"Come out here, old man!" he yelled, beating on the door. "She's dying and it's your fault! Come out here! I need your help!"

"No amount of yelling is going to help you there, I'm afraid," a man said, sticking his head out the adjoining building.

"Where is he?" Salazar asked, his breath coming in short gasps as the anger at the old witch doctor permeated throughout him. He imagined his face was as red as a beet.

"Don't know. But he left two days ago."

"Thank you," he said, though being thankful was the farthest from the truth at the moment.

He looked on with pity as Salazar smashed his hand into the door. With bleeding knuckles, he hurried back towards the inn, but the serpentine streets led him around and around until he didn't know which way was what. Frustrated and tired, a crucifix on the door of a nearby building caught his attention. A church, he hadn't been in one of those since he had left the protection of the monk. He had gone daily back then, at his protector's insistence, and the calm familiarity of the quiet chapel soothed his nerves.

He lit a candle and said a short prayer for Amy, making the sign of the cross. On a day to day basis, he had little need for prayer and religion, but it couldn't hurt. Amy needed all the help she could get right now.

"Can I help you?" He heard a voice ask from behind him. Salazar wheeled around to find a tall man that reminded him of a twig. His white beard hung down over too short black robes. He stared intently at Salazar, making him uncomfortable.

"No, thank you."

"You were praying for your wife?" Salazar shook his head. "Sister?"

He shook his head again. "A friend," he answered, furrowing his brow. He hadn't really thought of Amy in those terms before, but it just came out and he didn't bother to take it back.

"Ah, I see," the priest said with a knowing look. Salazar wondered how much he really he did. "And she is unwell."

Salazar hesitated. Unlike Godric, he didn't readily share information. Too many people had failed him in the past, but this was a man of the cloth. Thoughts of the monk who had taught him magic prompted his honesty.

"She's not getting better. The potions aren't working. And the doctor has disappeared." He couldn't hide the hint of desperation in his voice. Not that he needed to. The fact that he was in a church lighting a candle for her was proof enough.

"Have faith, my son."

"I'd rather have a potion to cure her," he said sarcastically, his patience waning.

"Lucky for you, I have both. Light another candle," the priest said, pointing at the candelabra. "And say another prayer."

And then he left Salazar standing alone in the nave. He glanced around nervously. The silence enveloped him as he fumbled for another match. He murmured a rote prayer, the words fuzzy in his memory, and he only made it halfway through before the priest returned holding a small vial.

"Here," he said, handing it to Salazar.

"What is it?"

"Phoenix's tears. They'll cure most anything," the father explained.

"These are rare and expensive. Why are you doing this?"

"Because she needs it. And she needs you."

"This is a dangerous profession for a wizard," Salazar said, bitterness creeping into his voice as the memories of flames licking at a building much like this one assaulted him.

"Even wizards need faith. Now go," he said, ushering him out the door. What wizards needed was to stay away from Muggles, but Salazar didn't say it. This was no time to argue over the benefits of complete isolation.

"Thank you," Salazar called over his shoulder, and then he ran the entire way back to the inn.

Rushing through the door, he saw the innkeeper's daughter in the corner. He grabbed her by the arm. "Which staircase?" he demanded.

"What?" she asked with a look of confusion. He shook her, too out of breath to try and make her understand.

"Which one goes up?"

"That one," she said, pointing. "Father made me change them back after you left earlier. No one around here likes to have any fun, if you ask me."

But Salazar hadn't asked her. And he didn't stand around to listen to her chatter on either. Hurrying up the stairs, he banged through the door and into Amy's room. She was just as he left her. With a slight tremble to his hand, he carefully measured out three drops, praying as each one fell into her open mouth.

Nothing happened right away. Salazar cursed himself for being so impatient that he forgot to ask the priest how fast it would work. Should he go back? Should he administer more? There wasn't much left and there was a chance they would need it later on. He didn't want to waste a precious potion in folly. He paced the room, trying to decide how long to wait, when a knock came at the door.

"There's a man downstairs asking after you," the maid told him. Salazar looked up.

Her words took a moment to sink in, but he finally managed to ask, "Who is it?" He hoped it wasn't the one eyed man. He would not be giving the money back. As far as he knew, Salazar had won the game fair and square.

"Tall, blond fellow. Has a big sword," she said with a smirk. Salazar scowled. It must be Godric. Where had he been? Three days had passed and only now he showed up. He nodded. The maid left with a curtsy. Salazar straightened his tunic, and threw some water on his face. Amy stirred some as he left, but she didn't wake up. He wondered again if she ever would.

Coming down the stairs, he saw Godric standing in the doorway. He was the picture of health, his golden hair perfectly

"Where have you been?" he demanded. Godric shrugged his shoulders, motioning to the barmaid. They sat down and she brought them both pints of ale.

"It's a longer walk than you think," he finally answered after a long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bring me another and one for my friend," he said to the maid who had followed Salazar down the stairs. She nodded with a giggle, and hurried off to fetch them their drinks. Salazar scowled. Did he even care about what happened to Amy?

"How is she?" Godric asked.

"Still dying, no thanks to you," he said.

"What could I have done if I had been here sooner?"

"You could have dragged that worthless doctor from his bed and made him heal her." He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, trying not to make a scene.

"If he's worthless then it wouldn't have mattered," Godric said sensibly. But Salazar didn't want sensible at the moment. He wanted results. "Have you tried anything else?"

"A priest gave me a vial of phoenix's tears. But it hasn't done anything."

"When did you give it to her?"

"Fifteen minutes ago. Right after I got back from the church." Godric nodded. Salazar noticed he didn't ask why Salazar had been in a church. Even as his best friend, Godric only knew half his history.

"Give it some time. She was in a bad way."

"Is, you mean," he corrected. Their drinks arrived then, delivered by the innkeeper's daughter. She smiled winsomely at Godric, who returned her grin with a smile and a wink.

"To Amy," he proclaimed, holding his glass up. "May she slay her dragon!" Salazar rolled his eyes. Even if she pulled through this, he couldn't be serious about her continuing on with them. If things went according to his plan, once she was on the mend, they would leave some money to get her through her convalescence and then home while they journeyed on ahead.

They drank to Amy, and kept on drinking through the night. Salazar won them some more money while Godric entertained the ladies and men alike with stories of their adventures, some Salazar remembered having and some that sounded similar to things they had done but with a bit more embellishment.

All the while, his mind kept wandering to the girl in the bed upstairs who fought for her life. He checked on her several times, but to no avail. Sweat still clung to her brow and her breathing had grown even shallower than before. Each time he descended the steps, Godric looked up from his storytelling, and each time Salazar shook his head. There was nothing left to do but to hope and pray. And drink.

He woke up, his hand covered in his own drool and his eyes crusted shut, to the innkeeper's daughter shaking his shoulder.

"Your girl is awake now," she said. Salazar nodded and jumped up, rubbing at his eyes furiously as he climbed the stairs to Amy's room.

He put his hand on the door. Opening it a crack, he heard voices. He paused to listen, curious to hear what Amy might say about him thinking he wasn't nearby.

"Where am I?" Amy asked the maid who flitted around the room, emptying the chamber pot out the open window.

"The Hog's Head in Hogsmeade," she answered in a thick brogue.

"Are there lots of hogs here?"

"No, why do ye ask?" The maid said, sounding bewildered. Salazar smiled. Her first question after waking up and it had nothing to do with how she got there. That came next and a couple more until the entire story.

"He's stayed by your side day and night," the maid told her.

"Godric?" Amy asked, sounding eager.

"The blond charmer? No, the darker moodier one," the maid said. He couldn't see it, but Salazar imagined her smile fell. He threw open the door, surprising them both.

"Oh, and here he is now. G'day Mr. Slytherin." The maid bobbed a curtsy and left the room.

"Mr. Slytherin," Amy said. She didn't look him in the eye, but twisted her blankets between her hands.

"How are you feeling?" He pulled over a chair from the corner. The scraping of the legs against the wooden floor echoed through the small room, emphasizing the awkward silence.

"Better."

"Good." He didn't know what to say. He had stayed by her bed for days, wringing his hands and praying that she would make it through. And now that he knew she was alright, he couldn't find the words to express those thoughts. Good hardly described it. Overjoyed, immensely relieved, even ecstatic better relayed what he felt at seeing her awake.

"You gave us quite a scare," he continued. She looked up at him with a small smile. He had the niggling feeling that it was the plural pronoun that perked her spirits.

"What happened to the troll? Is it alright?"

"You're worried about the creature that tried to kill you?" he asked aghast. "You weren't so worried about him when you were calling the trees down on him."

"I just wanted to stop him. Not hurt him," she explained. With this new piece of information, Salazar only felt better about his decision that she should stay behind. If she felt guilty about hurting a vicious forest troll, then how would she feel about killing a dragon? No, it was clear that she had to remain behind.

"Well, you certainly stopped him. And almost killed yourself at the same time. This has to stop. You can't control your magic and next time you're going to die."

"I can handle myself just fine, Mr. Slytherin," she said indignantly, tipping her nose up in the air defiantly. "In fact, I feel much better. If you don't mind, I'm going to get dressed and go down to dinner."

She hardly looked able to rise up from her bed, let alone take her meals downstairs, but he didn't say anything, just watched on as she grabbed the hairbrush from the bedside table in an effort to prove her point. She made it three strokes before she gave a strangled cry of frustration, the brush sticking in her wild curls.

He sat down on the bed behind her, taking the brush from her hand. "Let me help you," he said.

She frowned, but nodded, letting him pull back the mass of hair so that he could run the comb through it. He worked every knot and tangle until each strand lay smoothly. She relaxed under his care, leaning back against him with a great big sigh when he finally finished. He reveled in the warm weight of her pressing back against his chest, and for several moments, he didn't break the comfortable silence.

It was Amy that broke the peace, quietly saying, "You're going to leave me here, aren't you?"

"It's safer for—"

"If you leave me, then I'll have to go home. I'll have to go home empty handed and I can't do that." She twisted in his arms so she could look at his face. The desperation was written plainly in her face. "I can't do that."

Salazar stared into her eyes. He sensed that there was something else. Something she wasn't saying.

"What are you not telling me?" he asked.

"My father wants me to marry a horrible man. I don't like the way he looks at me. It makes my skin crawl and he'll expect me to stay at home and have children. And—" she choked over the words. "And I'll never learn magic. I'll never…"

A few tears leaked out, dripping down her cheeks, and she buried her face in his chest. He rubbed her back, trying to be comforting, but he couldn't think of any words that might ease her pain.

"So getting yourself killed by a dragon will prevent you from marrying?"

"No!" she protested, raising her head. "It will let me choose for myself. I'll have gold enough to build my own house, to buy my own farm. I just want the opportunity to choose for myself. I want to learn magic. I want to marry someone I love. Is that too much to ask?"

He smoothed back her hair from her face, his hand lingering. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, it isn't. But you're too weak to travel right now."

She shook her head almost violently at this truth. "I'll be fine. You'll see," she said, throwing back the covers and trying to stand. She had to grab the table to keep from tipping over, but she smiled like she had just run to the market and back.

He shook his head and stood. "You should lie back down. I'll send up the maid with some bathwater."

"Promise me you won't leave me here," she said as he went through the door.

He turned and the look on her face prompted him to answer, "I promise." He regretted it until he realized he had only promised not to leave her in the inn. Whether she would continue on their quest was still up for debate.


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Six**

"We have to leave her here, Godric," Salazar said not two minutes after he promised Amy.

"She won't like that." His friend sat thoughtfully considering the fire in the hearth. Two chickens turned on a spit and the smell of them was enough to make Salazar hungry. He realized he hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.

"It doesn't matter what she will like," he argued. "It's for her own good. She nearly died. Do you think it's wise that she throw herself in harm's way again so soon after?"

Godric finally turned and looked at him, sighing. "No, I suppose not."

"So we're agreed?"

Godric didn't nod enthusiastically. He didn't even nod unenthusiastically. "You're going to tell her?" he asked instead.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. Actually, he had hoped that he could convince his friend do to do the dirty work. She listened to Godric, where she argued with Salazar. She openly admired the blond warrior where her feelings toward the Potions maker varied from outright hatred to suspicious regard.

"What happened to that vaunted Gryffindor courage?" he asked. "Were you or were you not the man who took on a charging Manticore? Aren't you on a mission to slay a dragon? And you're afraid of a mere slip of a girl?"

"She's not a slip of a girl, Salazar, and you know it. If she was you wouldn't be down here asking me to deliver the bad news," Godric argued. Sometimes Salazar wished his friend lived up to the meathead stereotype. His perceptiveness was not always helpful.

"You want me to tell her? Fine, but this time be prepared to Stun her if I need you to." He slammed down his glass and looked around for another. Rowena brought him another. The ale sloshed out and over the sides as she swayed over to him. She really was a horrible maid, he thought, though an excellent witch when it came to Charms.

"What do you think about teaching?" he asked her, catching her by the sleeve before she could make her way back to the bar.

"Teaching? Teaching what?"

"Charms," Salazar said.

"You're not really thinking…" Godric started, but Salazar held up his hand, cutting off his sentence.

"We're starting a school, me and him. And we're going to need a Charms mistress. Are you interested?"

"Really?" she asked, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.

He nodded. "Sure. We have to raise the money first, but then we hope to start the premier school in Britain for witches and wizards. We'll take anyone—Saxons, Picts, Scots…"

"Muggleborns," Godric filled in.

"And Muggleborns," Salazar relented with a scowl, thinking of the girl he had left upstairs in bed. She certainly needed training, but he still wasn't convinced she wasn't better off back at home in her tower knitting socks.

"I'd be happy to," Rowena agreed, shaking each of their hands in turn. Godric waited until she skipped off before he rounded on Salazar and demanded an explanation.

"You can't be serious about this?"

"If I'm to deliver bad news to Amy, then I am damned sure going to soften her up with some good news first. She might not hex me into oblivion when she hears that we've lined up a Charms professor," Salazar explained.

"But still…" Godric stammered.

"Think of all the adoring children, Godric."

"I was thinking annoying children, actually."

Salazar leaned in with a smirk on his face. "That's what a good Silencing Charm is for, my friend."

Godric laughed and Salazar joined him. Awhile later, after making Rowena show him the way, he climbed the stairs and fell into bed. It had been a long three days of worry and little sleep. Now that things were looking up, he took advantage to rest and relax.

&&&&&

His relaxation only lasted as long as Amy thought Godric and Salazar wouldn't leave her behind. A ruckus in the hall stirred him from sleep. Stumbling to the door, he threw it open to see Amy on the floor. She clutched a blanket to her chest, and she appeared to be arguing with two gruff and questionable looking wizards.

"I'm fine where I am, thank you very much. And I don't appreciate the implications of your statements, sirs," she said hotly.

"I don't know nothing about no implications but if you need a bed, I got one you can warm," the one closest her slurred. He teetered a bit, nearly falling over as he reached out for her. She scooted back to escape his grasp, and bumped right into Salazar. He grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her up.

"The lady said no," he said, sneering at the two men. Pulling Amy into his room, he slammed the door.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed at her. The blanket slipped from her grasp, and he saw that she wore only her thin shift, and that it clung to every part of her. Her hair was tangled, and she looked feverish. Her eyes were glassy and her cheeks flushed red. She managed to look both vulnerable and wanton at the same time. No wonder those men had wanted to help her to bed.

She furrowed her brow, her eyes flashing with anger. "What were you doing? Sneaking out in the middle of the night without me?"

"No! I was saving you from two brutes since you are apparently sleeping in the hallway now!" he retorted. She had been so worried about them leaving her that she had decided to sleep in the hallway to prevent it, he realized.

"You weren't leaving?" She looked puzzled and slightly pleased.

"No," he repeated. "So there's no need for you to start sleeping outside my door." Amy nodded, and then slipped around him. He watched as she made her way to the bed. Considering it for a moment, she climbed in and started to make herself comfortable.

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulous. Her audacity knew no end.

"You just said I couldn't sleep in the hallway. So I figured I would sleep here instead."

"With me?" He gulped. She nodded at the same time she plumped his pillow and laid her head down.

"Out of the question. Absolutely not," he protested. "You are going back to your own room right now."

He strode over the bed only to find that she had already fallen asleep. Looking down on her slender form, he sighed with dismay.

"Unbelievable." If she weren't so sick and weak, he wouldn't hesitate to drag her from the bed. Instead, he took out his wand and Enlarged the bed to a size they both could fit in. Climbing in, he pulled the covers up to his chin and tried hard not to think about the fiery, frustrating, and increasingly intriguing woman next to him.

&&&&&

A knock at the door the next morning woke him up. He yawned and stretched his arms high above his head, starting when he saw the lump in the covers next to him. It took him a moment to recall the madness from the night before.

The knock became more persistent, and he hurried to answer it, cursing when he stubbed his toe in the process. Cracking the door an inch, he saw Godric standing in the hallway looking very worried.

"Is Amy with you?" he asked.

Salazar nodded. "She insisted on making sure we didn't abandon her in the middle of the night." He opened the door and motioned to the bed where she lay, still sleeping.

"Oh good," Godric said with a relieved sigh. "I went to bring her breakfast and panicked when she wasn't there." He frowned suddenly, looking at Salazar with a look of alarm. "She slept with you?"

"Not at my invitation," Salazar reassured him.

"Is that a good idea?"

"Absolutely not. And I told her so last night, but you know how she is." Godric nodded, but he still looked concerned.

"Just be careful, Salazar."

Salazar frowned. "Careful of what? Being kicked out of bed? Her snoring so loudly I can't sleep?"

"That's not what I meant," Godric said, sounding exasperated. He whispered in stark contrast to Salazar's irritated and increasing volume.

"Then what do you mean?"

"I don't want to see her hurt."

"I won't be if you would teach me some more spells," Amy said, coming up behind Salazar. He hoped she hadn't seen him jump, turning around to scowl at her.

With a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and her hair in tangles, she looked vulnerable and weak. Only the spark in her eyes and her defiant smile hinted at the fiery personality that lurked beneath the surface.

"You shouldn't be practicing magic anytime soon," he snarled.

"Don't mind him," Godric said, smiling at her and holding out his hand. She took it graciously and stepped around Salazar. "He's cranky if he doesn't get enough sleep."

"That's my fault, I'm afraid," she said as Godric escorted her back to her own room. Salazar watched them go, his irritation increasing two fold. It didn't occur to him that he should be relieved she was gone from his room. Grumbling to himself, he dragged himself back to bed. He was going to need some more sleep if he was to tell Amy that she wasn't coming with them.

&&&&&

Salazar had thought that the news of the new Charms professor would be enough to placate Amy. But he had sorely underestimated her resolve to fight the dragon.

"I don't care if you have students already enrolled, Mr. Slytherin, I AM going with you! You promised you wouldn't leave me behind."

"No," he argued, "I promised not to leave you here, as in this inn. We'll see you recovered and make sure you have someone to escort you home, but there is no way we can, in good conscience, let you continue with us." He tried to remain calm and collected, but it was hard to do when she was screaming at him.

"Good conscience! You haven't wanted me with you from the beginning!"

"Because it's been dangerous from the beginning!"

She didn't answer him, but stalked off. He let her go, knowing she would come around sooner or later.

And if coming around to his thinking meant sulking around all day at the inn, then she was making progress, Salazar thought later as he watched her from across the room later that night. She had stayed in her room for several hours before deigning to descend the stairs and join them in the main room.

"I ended up in the cellar," he heard her confide to Godric, but she just turned her nose up at him when she saw him approach.

"The staircases move depending on the day," he told her, ignoring her ignoring him. "It's Tuesday so they lead to the cellar."

"But how—" she started to ask before remembering she supposedly wasn't talking to him. She turned to Godric instead and addressed her question to him. Godric shrugged. He hadn't had the pleasure of encountering Rowena's more frustrating Charms displays, though he had been thoroughly delighted with her dancing bar stools.

"You can't stay angry with me forever," Salazar said, taunting her just a little. She glowered at him, her eyes narrowing into small slits.

"Oh, yes I can."

"You don't want to know how the stairs work?" He could see her curiosity warring with her indignation and anger at Salazar's earlier behavior. He suppressed a laugh at the obvious conflict, but sobered quickly when she brushed past him. She went to the other side of the room, sat at a crowded table, and began a spirited conversation with the one eyed man from the first night and a few others.

"You're not going to win with her," Godric said knowingly. Salazar just frowned.

"And you will?"

"I didn't say that, but it's easier to catch flies with honey than it is with vinegar," he said before a winsome wench pulled him away for a drink and some cards.

Salazar looked on with clenched fists. He stayed in the corner for some time, just watching her. He didn't intervene when several of her companions made inappropriate comments that made her redden from the tip of her ears and down her neck. Contemplating Godric's words, he wondered what might appease her.

She wanted to do magic. Salazar didn't want her to do magic. Not because she was Muggleborn but because the incident with the troll and her near death proved she couldn't handle it, not without a wand anyway. And then it hit him. A wand.

He snuck up behind Amy where she sat listening to a bawdy minstrel sing a song that made even him blush, and whispered in her ear. "It's a charm."

She jumped slightly at his sudden appearance, turning around with a look of surprise. "What?"

"The stairs work on a complicated charm that change their direction depending on the day of the week. On Sundays and Mondays they come down here. On Tuesdays they go to the cellar."

"And the rest of the days?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Come with me," he said, pulling her away from the crowded room.

"I'm still angry with you," she said as he led her by the hand through a narrow and dark hallway out the back of the inn.

"I know." But he hoped the peace offering he gave her would change all that.

"Where are we going? What about Godric?" she asked. His enthusiasm at his plan faltered at her insistence on remembering Godric. What about him?

"He won't even notice we're gone," he assured her, trying to ignore the hurt look that answer provoked in her. He had seen the jealous stares she had shot at the tavern women Godric allowed to sit in his lap while he played at cards and drank. She watched Gryffindor while Salazar stood in a corner and watched her.

He pushed away any thoughts of his friend, and focused on Amy and this surprise he had for her. "I want to take you somewhere. Will you let me…?" he motioned for her to come closer.

Hesitantly, she stepped into his embrace. He held her at the waist with one arm, and stroked up and down her arm with the other in a calming rhythm.

"Where are we going?"

"London," he answered, picturing Diagon Alley firmly in his mind.

"Lon—" Amy exclaimed, but before she could get the whole word out, they popped out of existence. A second later they landed in front of Ollivanders.

"don," she finished. "What was—where are we?" He turned her around so she could see the sign that hung above the shop door. "Quality wands since 382 B.C.?"

"I thought that with a proper wand you could stop using your heritage as an excuse for your sloppy magic," he said softly in her ear. He wasn't prepared for her excited squeal, but he didn't mind how she turned and grabbed his neck in a fierce hug. Then she hesitated.

"But I don't have any money," she said, pulling back and looking at him.

He shrugged. "I won a few galleons at cards last night."

"Are you sure?"

He leaned in again, nuzzling her neck. "I've never been more sure in my life." Perhaps with this, he could convince that she needed to stay behind. She still got to practice her magic, but a safe distance away from any dragon. Until she could handle her new wand with ease, she would still present a danger to their mission.

He grabbed her hand, and pulled into the store, her wide-eyed look of wonderment never leaving her face in the forty-five minutes it took to choose the right wand. She destroyed two shelves and an antique vase before they chose with a willow bark wand with a unicorn tail hair core.

"Now there's no excuse for you leaving me behind," she stated, waving her wand in a grand gesture. Boxes flew off the top shelf. Amy remained unmoved after an hour of similar disasters as Ollivander waved them back into place.

"You still have to learn how to use it," he pointed out to her, motioning to the mess. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him sweetly. She had a knowing look that said she knew he wouldn't leave her. He wouldn't dare to. Shaking his head, he paid and led her outside, Apparating them both back to Hogsmeade.

Her hand was still firmly encased in his as they walked back to the inn. She tugged on it just as they reached the door. Pausing, he stopped and looked back at her.

"What is it?" She looked timid, as though she were debating something within herself.

"Thank you," she said, leaning up and kissing his cheek. And then like a forest sprite, she skipped past him and hurried into the inn. He kept sight of her brown curls as they bounced through the press of people, his hand lingering on the spot where her lips had touched his skin.

How was it that someone so irritating had such an effect over him, he wondered as he watched her go. Shaking his head, he followed her inside.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Salazar/OFC isn't the most popular of pairings, so I appreciate every tidbit of feedback I can get.


	7. Chapter 7

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Seven**

Amy spent the better part of the next few days learning new Defensive Spells, mainly from Godric as she wore on Salazar's patience. Instead, he watched on and marveled at his friend's ability to coax a charm from her. He was gentle where Salazar was demanding, encouraging where Salazar was demeaning.

He might have been jealous of Godric's teaching style if it wasn't evident that his own worked on occasion too, especially with some of the more difficult spells. With Salazar berating her for her failure, she grew even more determined to prove him wrong.

"A Flame-Freezing Charm is the most important one you will need to fight a dragon," he insisted, realizing Godric would never get this from her. "If you can't manage even a decent one then there's no way even Godric can agree that you should go with us." Salazar turned to Godric for support, who had conveniently lifted a jug of water to his lips so that he avoided having to answer.

"I can do it," Amy ground out, raising her wand to try again.

"You haven't yet," Salazar reminded her. He marched around her, taking in her stance and the way she held her wand. It was all wrong.

"No, no, no," he said, taking her arm and repositioning it. "You're all wrong. Like this." If his hand hesitated on her wrist a moment longer than absolutely necessary, it was because he didn't want her getting herself or him killed later on when she insisted on coming with them.

Godric threw another fireball at them. Salazar held her arm steady and listened as she said the charm. The same spark of energy coursed through him, just as it had before. A warm breeze rushed over them while the flames crackled as they turned to ice in midair, landing in the dirt with a thud. Taking a step back breathless, he smirked when she turned and stomped her foot.

"I can do it myself!"

"Then show me." She tried again, this time though only the tip of the flames turned cold. She had to duck to keep from being burned.

"I just need some more practice," she said, biting her lip. She put out the fire with a stream of water from her wand. "And a rest. I'm going to take a walk."

Salazar nodded, watching her go. He couldn't keep his eyes off the way the skirt of her dress danced in the breeze and the short glances of her ankles it provided him. Godric came and stood beside him, also enjoying the view.

"She's progressing nicely," he commented. Salazar shook his head.

"Not fast enough."

"You want too much, too quickly," Godric argued.

"I didn't want any of this, if you'll remember correctly," he said, a sudden and strong longing coming over him for his small hut filled with potions ingredients, a few cauldrons, and a bed pushed into the corner. He didn't let Godric answer, but walked off in the opposite direction Amy had taken, deciding he needed some time alone as well.

Salazar came back to the inn several hours later to find Godric napping and Amy nowhere in sight.

"She hasn't come back yet?" Godric asked sleepily, sounding worried.

"Perhaps a blessing in disguise," Salazar said sardonically even as he turned around and started back outside. She was still weak, and a woman alone, she shouldn't be wandering around by herself.

He found her lounging in the meadow just outside the village. She sat among the tall grass, leaning back on her hands and soaking in the sun with her eyes closed. A crown of flowers rested atop her curls. He thought she looked like a goddess. Quietly, he approached her, only catching her attention with a short cough.

"There you are," he said, not knowing what else to say. He had come looking for her, but he suddenly forgot why it had been so important that they leave here. Drinking her in now, he thought he could stay here gazing at her forever.

"Here I am."

"That's a beautiful crown you're wearing, your highness. Just what do you rule over?" he teased.

"I'm just a woman. I don't rule over anything. I'm merely here as decoration."

"You don't believe that," he said, frowning at her bitter tone. "You're on a quest to battle a vicious dragon." She smiled at that, holding her hands up for him to help her. He grabbed them and pulled her up to stand.

"Those daisies are good in Shrinking Solutions," he said, reaching up to finger the flowers of her crown. "There are lots of useful ingredients around here."

"Show me?" Amy asked, looking up at him eagerly. He nodded, taking her hand in his and walking towards a group of trees.

"That hellebore there," he said pointing at the plant, "is used in the Draught of Peace."

"That sounds very nice."

"It is but you must be careful not to drink too much or you'll end up staring at nothing and drooling."

She giggled at the image. Salazar smiled at the sound. It was nice to hear a happy sound from her after days nothing but shouts of frustration. He looked around and pointed at another plant.

"And this is a key ingredient in the Draught of Living Death – a sleeping potion so powerful that if brewed incorrectly will cause the person taking it to never wake up again. Some people call it garden heliotrope, but that's not its real name. It's really named valerian."

"Amy isn't my real name either," she told him in conspiratorial whisper. He leaned in closer, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair.

"What is it?"

"Ameera. It means princess," she said.

"And are you?" She looked at him puzzled. "A princess, I mean," he clarified.

"Just a nobleman's daughter. What is your name? Your Christian name, I mean." She looked up at him with a sparkle in her eyes. They looked blue today, reflecting the color of her fresh dress. And the color had returned to her cheeks.

"My name is Salazar Slytherin."

"Salazar. Salazar," she said, trying it out on her tongue. She wrinkled her nose at him. "What an odd name."

"I didn't choose it," he said, suddenly defensive. He didn't care what this wisp of a girl thought of him or his name.

"Do they shorten it? Sal, perhaps?" she asked with a cheeky grin. She was teasing him, he realized. "Or how about Zar?" She let out a laugh, a mischievous giggle that resonated in his chest.

"Not if they want to live," he growled, stepping closer. Amy backed up, hitting the tree behind her. He towered down over her, his eyes resting on her lips. They were stained the color of raspberries and were slightly chapped from where she bit at them.

"I think I'll call you Sally," she said. He met her eyes with a cold stare. No one made fun of Salazar Slytherin. She stared back but she couldn't keep up with him. Her eyes sparkled with mirth and her mouth crept up into a smile as she let out a laugh.

"You wouldn't dare," he challenged, trying to stay serious. He edged closer and she reached out and rested her hands on his chest. Her fingers curled into the linen of his shirt, gripping it tightly.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice suddenly low and breathy. He couldn't tell if it was from laughing or nerves.

"Maybe you should be." He leaned in. She leaned in. They both tilted their heads to make room for their noses. Salazar's eyes drifted closed, and then ever so slightly he brushed his lips against hers.

"There you two are," he heard Godric boom from behind them. Salazar cursed under his breath. His friend had a canny knack for timing. "I thought we could talk strategy over dinner. We should probably get back on the road soon. Maybe even as soon as tomorrow, if you're feeling better," he said, motioning to Amy.

"I feel fine," she said. Godric nodded. He didn't wait for them to follow, but turned and lumbered on through the bush.

Amy wiggled out of his half embrace and skipped after Godric, her voice light and airy as ever as she chattered on. "We were talking about names. What does yours mean, Godric?"

"I don't know," he answered, swinging his sword to and fro to cut through the underbrush. "I never thought about it." Salazar didn't follow.

"You two go on ahead," he said, sighing inwardly. "I'm going to stay and collect ingredients."

Godric hardly looked back with a quick nod to show he had heard. Amy paused and turned around. Her eyes met Salazar's with a look of what might have been disappointment. But in the next moment, she turned away and skipped off with Godric, convincing Salazar that he must have been mistaken. No one, especially a girl like Amy, would be sad to leave Salazar when Godric was around.

Salazar got back to the inn just as the sun dipped behind the surrounding hills. Looking for his travel companions, he couldn't find either one in the taproom or in their rooms upstairs. His heart beating a little faster, he ventured outside, heading for the stables. The difference between the clamor of the inn made a striking difference. He could think out here. And his thoughts ventured down paths he didn't want it to go in regards to Amy and Godric.

It would be too sticky for the two of them to become involved romantically, with the pressure of dragon hunting mixing with the distraction of newfound love. He couldn't, or rather wouldn't admit to himself what it would mean if she liked Godric better than him.

Laughter ringing out cut off his thoughts. He looked around to find its source. He knew that giggle. But there appeared to be no one around. And yet the laughter got louder, like it was getting closer. He looked up.

A broomstick holding Godric and Amy flew circles around the inn. Salazar's heart dropped at the sight of her clutching his friend's waist while she squealed with delight. Spotting him, they prepared to land. The broom wobbled and swayed as it neared the ground. Salazar took a step back as they skidded to a stop, kicking up dust as they went.

"Want to take a turn, Salazar?" Godric asked. Amy climbed off the back, a wide grin gracing her face.

"I'd rather face the dragon without my wand than climb on that stick with you," Salazar spat.

"But it's amazing what you can see!" Amy exclaimed. "It's like being a bird!"

"I'd rather be a bird," Salazar said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice.

"You know you're not an Animagus," Godric said. Salazar glared at him.

"An Animagus?" Amy asked, looking very intrigued. The girl soaked up knowledge like a sponge, but he didn't feel like a lecture on Transfiguration at the moment.

"I'll explain later," Salazar snapped.

Amy frowned, looking from Salazar to Godric. Stepping forward, she kissed Godric's cheek and thanked him for the ride. Then she bid them good night and headed inside. Salazar wondered if he would find her in his room like she had been the last week or her own as he watched her go.

With her gone, he spun around and faced Godric, his arm reaching out on its own accord and making contact with Godric's nose. He stumbled back, clutching at his nose. Salazar pulled back his hand, his knuckles stinging.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Godric asked belligerently as he wiped the blood trickling from his nose.

"There are a dozen women inside that can't wait to serve you a butterbeer and listen to you go on at length about your many adventures. Not one of them will give me a second look, and yet you have to go after the one woman that will," he said, starting to shake with anger.

"This is about Amy?"

"Yes, you witless oaf! You knew I liked her, so you decided to take her on a romantic broom ride!" Salazar's voice grew louder and louder.

"She asked me to take her, not the other way around, you imbecile!" Godric shouted back. "And while we were up there, she told me that she has feelings for you!"

"I don't—" Salazar paused. "She said what?"

"She likes you, but she thinks that you find her irritating," Godric said, lowering his voice.

"I do find her irritating. And intriguing. And amusing. And lovely."

"Then tell her that, you twit. And stop punching me in the face."

Salazar looked at him perplexed. She liked him. Amy liked him. It was almost too much to hope for. He nodded, turning to rush inside to find her and tell her he felt the same way. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder back at Godric. The bleeding had slowed; dark red blots still stained his face.

"Sorry about that," Salazar apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Godric said with a shrug. "There are at least a dozen women inside who would love to help me clean up." He winked at Salazar who let out a laugh, and then he hurried inside.

He found her pacing in his room.

"You were being a real prat downstairs," she told him as he came in.

"Broomsticks are a dangerous way to travel. I was just worried about your safety."

She glared at him. "I wish everyone would stop that. I'm perfectly capable of considering it myself, you know."

"I know." He supposed she expected him to argue the point, maybe mention how she was a woman or Muggleborn and therefore unable to think clearly, because his frank admission caught her off guard. She stopped and looked at him, considering his words for a moment.

"What's wrong with your hand?" she asked with a look of concern, changing the subject. She reached for it, but he pulled it away from her grasp, shielding it from her curious gaze with his body.

"Nothing," he said quickly. Amy looked at him suspiciously. She circled around him, plucking his hand from hiding and holding it up. Her eyes softened when she saw the bruises on his knuckles.

"It's not nothing," she exclaimed. "You're hurt!"

"I'll be fine," he said. But she didn't listen.

"Who did you punch and why?" She led him to the washstand and immersed his sore knuckles in the basin, spooning the water over them.

"A man downstairs called me Sally." She looked up at him, her surprised look quickly turning suspicious.

"You're teasing me."

"Yes, I am," he admitted, trying not to flinch as she sponged the blood from his hand. "In truth, it's Godric who deserves your pity more than me."

"Godric?" she asked, pausing her ministrations. "You hit Godric?" Salazar nodded.

"But why?"

"I was…," he choked over the words, "jealous." It wasn't something he liked admitting to himself, let alone her.

"What possible reason would you have to be jealous of Godric?" She began attending his hand again, taking a cloth and drying it off, then wrapping it up. When she finished, however, she didn't relinquish her hold, but stood holding it between hers.

It encouraged him to take a chance, to say, "Other than his charm, good looks, and the beautiful woman on his broomstick tonight, there's nothing to be jealous of."

"Well, that's just silly. So you're not charming exactly, but you are clever, and I rather like the look of…oh!" she exclaimed, looking at the floor with a sudden interest. She blushed red, the color suffusing her cheeks and spreading up to the tips of her ears, and she mumbled something to the floor.

Reaching out, he tipped her chin up with his good hand. "What did you say?"

"You've no reason to be jealous," she said, raising her eyes to meet his.

"Funny, that's what Godric said too. I came up here to be sure." He stepped closer.

"Can I help convince you?" She moved closer.

Salazar cupped her face, drawing her nearer. "I think so," he said, and then he kissed her. And to his great delight and excitement, she kissed him back. He moved his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. She moved her arms up and around his neck, her fingers scratching at the base of his scalp. Goose bumps rose up on his skin, and he clutched her tighter and kissed her soundly.

"I should go back to my room," she said a few long moments later, her voice breathy. Her cheeks flushed red, this time from exertion rather than embarrassment, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

"Stay," he entreated, resting his forehead against hers.

"My virtue is at risk. What would people think about me staying in the room of a man I'm not married to," she said, trying to move away, but he held her tighter.

"You didn't seem to mind before," he reminded her.

"Whatever they thought would have been scandalous lies before." A look of disdain crossed her face.

"And now?" He didn't let her answer but kissed her again, feeling her smile against his lips.

"I should go." He closed his eyes as she kissed him one last time on the cheek, and then left his embrace, heading for the door.

"We leave tomorrow," he reminded her. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and looked back at him.

"You promise you won't leave me behind?"

"I promise." And this time he meant it. Wherever he was, he wanted her there with him. Even if that meant dragging her along to fight the dragon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Don't Tickle a Sleeping Dragon**

**Chapter Eight**

They set out the next morning, weighed down by supplies, but the excitement of their quest spurred them on. Amy, in particular, talked and talked. She asked Godric and Salazar question after question about the different kinds of dragons. How big were they? Could they really fly? Why did they hoard gold? Did they breathe fire or was that just something men told their wives to impress them?

Salazar laughed at the last question. "No, they really breathe fire," he answered. "Which is why you need to practice your Flame Freezing Charm."

"I'm getting better!" she exclaimed, taking out her wand and demonstrating her technique.

"Almost there," he proclaimed. Her smile at this bit of encouragement, thus far unheard of from him, lit up her face, and she skipped along side of him, humming a happy tune. Godric looked back at him with a puzzled glance. Salazar just shrugged at him and took her hand in his.

"There's a Muggle village up ahead," Godric said nonchalantly several hours later. The sun had started to dip down and the light faded as it went. They would need to stop soon. "Maybe there will be an inn we can stop at."

"No," Salazar said. Godric sighed. Amy looked at him curiously.

"You don't want to stop?"

"No."

"You'd rather sleep on the cold, hard, rocky ground?"

"Yes." It seemed simple enough to him. He didn't understand what was so hard to grasp.

"Because it's a Muggle town?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?" The question came out sounding much harsher than he intended. She narrowed her eyes.

"I come from a non-magical family, Salazar," she reminded him needlessly.

"But you aren't a Muggle; you're a witch," he argued.

"That's hardly the point!"

"Then perhaps you'll be so kind as to enlighten me what exactly the point is because frankly I'm a little confused. I don't like Muggles. You aren't a Muggle. And I thought I made it pretty clear that I did like you!"

With a huff, she threw her pack to the ground and stormed off into the woods. Salazar started after her, but Godric threw out an arm and stopped him in his tracks. He watched as she disappeared into the brush as anger, frustration, and oddly enough, a certain amount of sadness battled within his chest.

"We're doomed to fail, aren't we?" he asked Godric.

"You certainly are if you keep up like this. She doesn't understand, Salazar. And she won't until you tell her." Salazar shook his head, even though he knew his friend had a point.

"I should go find her," he said, "before she attacks another innocent troll."

Godric nodded, dropping his arm and reaching over to retrieve Amy's bag. "I'll set up camp."

He found her sitting up against a large tree trunk with her knees pulled up to her chin. She looked thoughtful and he wondered what she might be thinking.

"I left my home when I was only fifteen. My mother had taught me some magic, but not a lot. My father was useless, really, spent all his time tinkering with ridiculous inventions that never worked while our small farm went neglected," he said with no introduction. She looked up at him surprised, but she didn't interrupt him, just moved over so that he could join her.

"I met a monk—a devout man and a very powerful wizard. He taught me everything I know. All the herbs and plants that go into potions, how to read people, how to defend myself, how to read and think—he paused, trying not to let his emotions get carried away. "He was like a father to me. I thought the world of him."

"What happened?" Amy whispered.

"The Bishop, a Muggle man, discovered he was a wizard. It was the work of the devil, he claimed, and ordered my mentor to cease all of his spells and discard all of his potions. It broke his heart to hear such an order. Surely, you must know, what it is like to try and not practice your magic. It's impossible."

Amy nodded sympathetically. "At least I didn't know. I couldn't help myself now."

"Exactly. He couldn't. I remember his praying for hours and hours, for days on end, for an answer on what he should do. He decided to leave the Abbey and live in a small cottage in the woods. I pleaded with him to stay, but his mind was made up. It nearly broke his heart to go. The night he had planned on leaving, the church officials arrived." He stopped and took a breath.

"They dragged him from the Abbey, out into the streets where everyone could see him. And then they killed him." He didn't go into the detail of it. It was too much for her to hear, too much for him to relive again. "Then they burned the Abbey. They said it had been disgraced beyond measure and there was nothing else to do."

"But, but he was a wizard. He could have stopped them!" Amy cried, grabbing for his hands.

"He wouldn't use his magic against Muggles. He was absolutely adamant about that," Salazar said, bitterness biting at the back of his throat at the memory of it. He clutched her outstretched hands in his, surprised at the comfort they gave him.

"Not even to save himself?"

He shook his head sadly. "Not even then. I think he was so overcome with grief that the life he had always known was being taken away from him that he didn't care what he did to them."

"Salazar," she said softly, her hand reaching up to stroke his face. "I'm so sorry."

"Do you understand now why I would rather sleep on the cold, hard, rocky ground?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Good," he said, suddenly very aware of how much he had just revealed. He felt very open and vulnerable, and even though she had accepted his explanation and sat gently stroking his face, he felt the need to lighten the atmosphere, to do anything but think of the past and its horrors.

"I would feel better though," he stopped, wondering if he should continue.

"What?" He loved how eager she looked.

"If you would deign to kiss me."

"Consider yourself deigned," she said, leaning over and pressing her lips to his. Impatient for more, he pulled her into his lap and held her tight as she slipped her tongue past his lips.

"You know not all Muggles are bad," Amy said when they broke apart.

"Your family didn't mistreat you when you unknowingly performed magic?"

She stiffened. "That's different," she said.

"How?"

She shifted in his embrace, avoiding his eyes. He noticed she hadn't spoken much about her own family history beyond that short glimpse the first night she had met Salazar and Godric.

"We should get back. Godric will start to worry," she said, ignoring his question. He stopped her as she tried to stand up.

"I don't think he expects us back soon," Salazar said, covering her mouth with his again. He understood her reluctance to speak about such things, and truthfully, his own confessions today had been more than enough. Instead, sitting in the shade of a great oak tree, he held her tighter and kissed her silly.

"I love you," she murmured breathless many moments later, resting her head in the crook of his neck. He responded in kind, just as pleased to hold her as he had been to kiss her. Her lips tickled his neck as she asked him question after question about the magical world, and he punctuated his lesson with kisses on her shoulders up her neck and along her jaw.

In the future, he would look back and remember these stolen moments as the happiest of his life.

* * *

Three days later and they had finally found their dragon.

The opening to the cave wasn't very large, which suggested that the dragon also wasn't very big. Smoke curled up and out of the entrance, and the trees and bushes around the area were bare of any leaves. The ground was scorched.

"The smoke can't be a good sign," Amy said.

"No," Godric agreed.

"We need a plan," Salazar said.

"First, we need to know what we are dealing with," Godric said. "We need to get closer." Amy looked at Salazar skeptically, but he just shrugged and followed Godric, who had already started crawling closer. After several long and miserable moments of scooting through spiky branches and over rocky ground, they reached the end of the brush. Once they left it, there would be no more cover. Nowhere to hide. Without hesitation, Godric tiptoed his way to the cave opening.

"You wanted to see a dragon, and here's your chance," Salazar whispered to Amy, motioning for her to follow. She inhaled deeply, found her courage, and pushed through the remaining branches. He followed behind her, bringing up the rear.

"Do you see anything?" Amy asked Godric, who had the clearest view into the dragon's lair.

"Just a tail and not much else. I can't tell how big he is from the tip of his tail," he complained quietly. Salazar peeked around Amy to see a giant sized tail, with green scales tipped with red. It came to a rather spiky point, and he hoped he never had the chance to see how sharp it really was.

"It's big enough," Salazar hissed. He pulled on Amy's shoulders. They had all the information they were going to get and remain alive. They needed to get out of there. But Godric ignored him, and then before either Amy or Salazar could stop him, he took out his sword and poked the dragon's tail.

"Are you insane?" But Godric didn't have time to answer.

Salazar watched in amazement as a scaly green dragon shot out of the cave. The roar echoed in his ears, vibrating in his chest. Godric's stumbled backwards out of the way and he dropped his sword. The dragon flew overhead, spitting fire down in their direction. All three of them fell to the ground, rolling out of the way. What little grass was left was quickly lit aflame.

Frantically, they crawled back towards the trees. Salazar grabbed Amy by the arm and started running. He could hear Godric's footfalls behind him, and the flapping of the dragon's wings overhead. The tree canopy hid them from view, but that didn't stop it from breathing fire down. Flames ripped through the branches, leaping from tree to tree. A spark lit up Amy's sleeve. She stopped with a yelp.

"Salazar, help!"

"_Aguamenti_!" A stream of water poured out of the tip of his wand, putting out the flame. The second it was smothered and gone, he grabbed her and continued to run. They ran for what felt for like miles until they could no longer hear the dragon circling overhead. Salazar slowed to a stop, wheeling around onto Godric.

"What in MERLIN'S name did you THINK you were DOING?" he yelled.

"I think that we know it's a Common Welsh Green," Godric said with a cheeky grin. Salazar couldn't stop himself. He reached out and punched him in the face.

"What was that for?" he asked, stunned. Blood trickled from his nose. Salazar rubbed at his hand where it smarted. It had just started feeling better from the last time he had hit Godric.

"For almost killing me. For almost killing Amy," he said, motioning to her. She bit at her lip and looked down at the ground. The arm of her dress was black with soot and her hair stuck to her face with perspiration.

"It was a stupid idea," she said. She paused. "But I think we've learned an important lesson today," she stated grandly, a small smile dancing at her lips.

He couldn't believe she could smile at the situation, but it was catching nonetheless. "Never stab a sleeping dragon," Salazar suggested.

"It was more of a poke," Godric said in his defense. "A tickle might even be closer to the truth."

"Please don't ever tickle me with your sword," Amy said, feigning horror.

"That's it then," Salazar declared with a laugh. "Never tickle a sleeping dragon."

"We _are _going to have to do something about it," Amy said, suddenly sounding very serious. Salazar was surprised she didn't mention trying to tame it first.

"I suggest something slightly more than tickling," Salazar said.

"Time for a strategy," Godric stated grandly. And so they set to work.

Their strategy it turned out was more frightening to Salazar than perhaps the dragon itself.

"Flying?" he asked again just to be sure he had heard Amy right.

"It makes perfect sense!" she exclaimed. He had once thought her incessant enthusiasm was irritating, but more and more he found it endearing, though in this instance he wished he could talk her out of it.

"She's right, Salazar," Godric said. Salazar knew better than to trust his oldest and bestest friend to back him up on this matter, especially as he loved broomsticks nearly as much as he loved women. "With three of us flying around its head, it won't know which of us to attack. It's bloody brilliant if you ask me."

Amy beamed at the praise. It had been her suggestion after all. Salazar resisted the urge to pout. It wasn't very manly and she did have a point. Although so did he.

"But I can't fly," he reminded them.

"If I can learn a Flame Freezing Charm then you can learn something as simple as flying a broomstick," Amy told him. Salazar snorted at the word simple.

"Will you teach me?" he asked.

"Of course!" she said. "But I'll warn you, I'm not an easy taskmaster." She tried to look stern, no doubt remembering the way he berated her on her own spell work, but her lips curled up at the edges.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he answered, pulling her close. She gasped in surprise, but easily acquiesced when he kissed her. Godric's clearing of his throat reminded them they weren't alone.

"Flying, it is."

* * *

Three days later and after hours of lessons, Salazar found himself readying himself for battle. Flying had turned out to be easier than he had originally thought. Once he got the broomstick off the ground that was. The first thirty minutes he had tried in vain to coax it into his hand. It had merely wiggled around on the ground a bit. But as soon as he got into the air, he realized what Godric and Amy had been talking about.

He still wasn't convinced it was a better mode of travel when compared to the ease of Apparating or even a Portkey, but he felt prepared to fight this dragon. A good thing, since it sat stewing in its cave not fifty yards away.

"Ready?" Godric asked. Salazar and Amy nodded. They swung their legs over the brooms. Salazar gulped and said a prayer, desperately hoping he could fly this blasted stick straight. He had managed it under Godric's guidance, but with a fire breathing dragon bearing down on him it was a completely different situation.

They flew up and over the trees, until the cave came into view. Smoke drifted lazily up over the treetops just as it had before.

"This is it," Godric said. He was the unspoken leader of the group. "On three."

"1…" Salazar glanced over at Amy. She had her bottom lip between her teeth and she took a few deep breaths.

"2…" This was his last chance to say something before they became the dragon's next dinner.

"Amy," he said softly, flying closer to her broom. She looked over at him with a nervous expression. "You can do this. You're a witch, and a powerful one at that. This dragon doesn't stand a chance against you."

It was just what she needed to hear. Her smile bloomed across her face. "Thank you," she said, blushing, and then with a mischievous grin she said, "Good luck, Sally!"

"3!"

He didn't have time to respond, but turned the end of his broom towards the ground in a steep dive. The grass came up quickly and just before he met it, he pulled back up. Their shouts had alerted the sleeping dragon to their presence, and he crawled out of his cave with a very disgruntled roar. The accompanying flame nearly hit Salazar, but he grabbed his wand and used the Flame Freezing Charm. The flames froze into icicles, dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Amy and Godric, he noticed circled around the dragon's head, trying to move its attention away from Salazar. He flew up and joined them, pointing his wand and casting curses every second he wasn't trying to avoid the dragon's flames or flying into a tree. But the thick scaly skin blocked their every attempt.

"I need to be on the ground!" Godric yelled.

"What?" Salazar shouted. Godric motioned to the sword, still sheathed at his side. He couldn't fly and wield it at the same time. But if Amy and Salazar could distract the dragon, then Godric might have a chance to hit the small vulnerable underside of its belly.

He nodded his understanding, flying in a circle and pointing his wand at the dragon's head. The curse hit it square in the eye, and it screamed in agony, flipping its horned tail in the air. Salazar watched in horror as the spikes hit Amy as she flew past, tearing the arm of her dress. But his attention was drawn back to the dragon immediately as a burst of flames shot past. The heat of it nearly overcame him, and he gripped his broom a little tighter to keep from falling off.

"Where's Godric going? Is he alright?" Amy shouted, flying closer. Salazar looked up to see her hovering near him. She pointed her wand in the down, and he realized that he had only survived the next burst due to her quick action and skill with the Flame Freezing Charm.

"Don't worry about him. We need to coax it up into the air so he can get into place and then drive it back down while still distracting it," he explained hurriedly, dodging another burst of flame. The dragon stretched its long skinny neck into the air, its eyes blinking rapidly while it tried to keep them in its view.

"You go that way—" Salazar pointed. "And I'll go this way." She nodded and sped off before another flame could reach her. They flew around and around, sometimes cutting out of the pattern, so that the creature didn't know where to look. The moment it focused on one, the other would swoop down with a barrage of curses. After several rounds of this, it got tired of the game, and finally unfurled its wings, flapping them in rapid succession.

It rose up slowly, and with a great groan. Salazar looped around under its neck to get a glimpse of Godric. He immerged from the bushes, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. Their eyes met, and Godric nodded to Salazar that he was ready.

"Now!" he shouted to Amy. She dove from her position above the dragon and began screaming spells. Shots of colored light mixed with fiery orange of the dragon's fire. Salazar flew up and then down, joining Amy.

Confused and surprised at this sudden onslaught, the dragon retreated, but not without a fight. It swung its horned tail and belched even more fire than before. It was hell. It was worse than the troll in the forest or the charging Manticore he had faced with Godric several years before because this time he wasn't sure he would live.

Suddenly, a strangled and screeching noise erupted from the beast. Its tail twitched, but with less force than before and it slumped down, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Salazar looked down to see Godric scurrying to get out of its downward path. He still clutched his sword, but this time it was covered in blood.

They had done it. They had really done it. He landed, skidding to a halt on the torched ground with Amy right behind him. With a shout, he threw the broomstick to the ground and grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around. She clutched his neck and laughed with joy.

Godric dropped his sword with a heavy sigh. Salazar dropped Amy gently back to the ground, then turned to his friend and held out his hand.

"Well done," he said. Godric took it, and then pulled him closer for a hug.

"I couldn't have done it without you." He released Salazar and looked at Amy. Smoke rose up from the tendrils of hair that escaped her braid and blood seeped through the tears in her dress, but she had a huge smile of her face. "Or you," Godric added.

"Thank you," she said, coming closer and gathering both of them into a hug.

"Shall we go and have a look at our prize," Salazar suggested a few moments later. They quickly agreed, and with Godric leading the way, the small party picked their way through the now scorched terrain, past the smoking body of the slain dragon, and into his glittering cave. They found a mountain of gold coins, jewels, and an assortment of treasures.

"There's enough here for a school, don't you think?" Amy asked, her face aglow at the prospect.

"More than enough," Godric assured her. Salazar looked at him questioningly. He just shrugged. "I think one dragon is enough for me. It's time for a completely new challenge."

Amy looked at Salazar with an expectant look. He nodded his agreement. "Now that we have the finances we can look into the logistics. It won't be easy," he said to Amy as she jumped up and down with glee. "We'll need a location, and more than just the three of us to get it off the ground."

"But it will be wonderful!" Amy exclaimed. "I can be your first student!"

Salazar laughed, nodding, and leaned down to pick out a jeweled tiara, glittering with gold, diamonds, and emeralds, and set it on Amy's head. "A real crown, for a real lady," he proclaimed, presenting her to Godric as a princess. And then he and Godric scraped and bowed, shouting "Long live Ameera!"

She laughed, blushing red. Reaching down, she fished out a silver ring from among the coins, and grabbing Salazar's hand, she placed it on him.

"What is this for?" he asked.

"Every princess wants a prince," she said, her eyes sparkling. He pulled her close, his arms encircling her waist.

"And will you embroider cushions for me while you wait for me to return home?" She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on his chest.

"Never!" Her defiant attitude reminded him of that very first day.

"What would you have done if we hadn't discovered you in the forest that day?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. Somewhere in the background, the clinking of metal on metal rang out as Godric pawed through another pile of treasure. "I never would have learned I was a witch, but I'm sure I would have had adventures all the same."

Salazar laughed. "Of that, I have no doubt," he assured her.

"The more important question is, of course, what would you have done if you hadn't met me?" she asked with a sly grin.

"I'm afraid to imagine the outcome," he said. And then he kissed her.

**Epilogue**

Most often such a story would end with the words "and they lived happily ever after," but this tale, dear reader, is not one of those. Salazar Slytherin and Ameera, known as Amy, did live happily for a short time.

They married. Filled with joy at her new life, Amy felt compelled to put to right her torn relationship with her family. Salazar refused to visit the Muggles that had driven her from her home, but she stayed fast to her decision, and went without him.

The details of her familial visit are lost to history, but the sad outcome is not. They did not, as she no doubt hoped, clutch her to their breasts or proclaim her as the prodigal daughter. Instead, her revelation that she was a witch led to her untimely demise at her own father's hands.

Salazar blamed himself. He shouldn't have let her go. Godric argued there was no stopping her.

He hadn't taught her enough defensive spells to protect herself. Godric assured him that with her tender heart she probably never thought to use even the ones she did know against her own family. She was too tenderhearted to comprehend patricide.

He had told her she had been a witch. And it was this knowledge that had ultimately killed her. To that Godric had very little to say.

Years later when they would argue about the admission of Muggleborns to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when Rowena and Helga's logical arguments fell on deaf ears, Godric would quietly say, "Think of Amy, Salazar."

To which he would always hiss in reply, "I am."

But let us not remember them for what they became, but rather what they were—a young couple in love who fought and killed a mighty dragon.


End file.
